


in rainbows

by governorodious



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drinking problems, F/F, Strap-Ons, Tags Subject to Change, Technically underage drinking, alice 'tops from bottom' cullen, lesbian ally/underwater photographer/personal trainer emmett cullen, pairs well (i think) with thom yorke's discography, thinly disguised videogame romance quotes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24236020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/governorodious/pseuds/governorodious
Summary: Bella and Alice navigate their attraction for one another while danger lurks in the water. Emmett takes selfies with sharks.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 27
Kudos: 107





	1. go slowly

It was dark out, sun long past set. Bella inserted a book into the last open space in her new bookshelf. The wood was ash, gray, beautiful. Uninviting, made less so by the motley of colors in its shelves. Heavier at the bottom, to prevent tipping. Drilled into the wall — eventually she would pay this on the security deposit. Maybe Carlisle wouldn’t care, but after everything that happened, she was too ashamed to ask.

Empty boxes littered the living room of her flat. Soft yellow light bathed the wooden furniture, hardwood floors, sliding elegantly over dark granite countertops. A warm plush couch faced the opposite wall. She hadn't made the time to put up paintings or a TV mount, so it faced nothing. There was an oversized recliner in a reading nook she insisted on having for herself. She wanted to put her feet up. Her legs ached, her back ached, and her neck, god. She needed a chiropractor. 

All of her clothes remained unpacked, along with her covers, and the textbooks she ordered months ago for classes she was no longer taking. She wanted to be done moving.

Her phone buzzed. _open door pls pls pls box falling apart_

It couldn’t be serious. She shuffled to the door, barely cracking it before it burst open. Alice ran through with five colossal boxes stacked one on top of the other, a laundry bag over her shoulder, and plastic bags hanging off her forearms. 

“Alice, Jesus, let me help,” Bella started to say. The boxes really were falling apart, clothes and hoarder garbage peeking through a gaping maw. Alice barely held it together with the tips of her fingers.

“I’m fine! I’m really fine but it’d be really nice if you — ” 

Six sweaters, a blazer, an ashtray and a box of lightbulbs tumbled out of the rip. The lightbulbs shattered into a thousand diminutive pieces. The ashtray survived without a scratch, fleeing into the kitchen.

Alice squatted down until the bags hit the floor. “I knew this would happen,” she said, sagelike.

“I’ll, uh, get some scissors. I guess.”

It was a team effort to undo the general disaster of moving in. She cut Alice out of the net of plastic bags she tangled herself in. Tape rescued the bleeding box. Alice effortlessly lifted the rest of them onto the countertop. Bella knew she’d need help to carry even one of those overstuffed monstrosities.

“I just want you to know that this _wasn’t_ my fault, that I told Emmett to buy plastic ones, but that he insisted on getting you cardboard file boxes ‘for the aesthetic,’ I even told him they would fall apart if he kept cramming stuff into them, and then he said he’d totally be able to carry them all up in one trip, except I _knew_ he would bail last minute —”

“I actually do like these, they look kind of nice,” Bella said, examining the surviving boxes. They had a professional yet dilapidated look. The kind of thing a rich person would call minimalist. It suited her.

Alice sighed. “Which is why I didn’t push it.” She pulled out a box of lightbulbs from the plastic bags. “So I got you these.”

“Thanks, Alice.” 

Bella idly folded a few sweaters. Once they were empty, the boxes would look nice in the tiny office space she set up, on the shelves. The colors meshed well with the ashen bookshelf. She could find a nice gray pillow to put on the armchair and really bring the room together.

When she turned around, her eyes met the soft gray blanket folded over her armchair. Brand new — Alice straightened its furled corners.

A pleasant surprise. Very in-character. “How’d you know? Wait, nevermind. Stupid question. Thank you. You didn’t have to.” 

Alice smiled. “I wanted to. Let me help you finish unpacking.”

They — well, really, just Alice — made quick work of the stray baubles hidden in the boxes. Emmett crammed sixteen dinner plates into a box with an antique typewriter and twenty pound dumbells and padded it with her t-shirts. That was the ‘Fuck Bella, Specifically’ box. The next few had sweatshirts and jeans. Alice stopped and grimaced at every article of clothing she picked up. Bella had left her to judge her clothing on her own, electing to rid herself of the ‘Fuck Bella’ box.

It was Bella’s job to arrange the apartment as she saw fit, and if you held her at gunpoint, she would even admit to enjoying it. Despite the strangeness of claiming a place solely her own, decorating put her at ease. Esme had gotten her hooked on home magazines. 

The typewriter could go next to the boxes on the shelves over her desk. The dumbbells were too heavy for her now, but on their sides, could look decent under the coffee table. Or maybe they’d just be extra shelving. She hadn’t decided. The dinner plates would go where dinner plates go, and she’d put the t-shirts away later.

Exhaustion finally set in, after a day of packing, driving, paperwork, unpacking, arranging. Even with Emmett and Alice helping, it had taken them the entire day. The car ride had been tense, only because she had lingered on the supposition that they, too, would abandon her as Edward did. Then they didn’t. It didn’t make leaving Forks any easier. 

Charlie had been floored — from Dartmouth to an unremarkable, middling school in northern California, so much closer yet still hundreds of miles away? She had submitted applications to a few other schools — U Alaska, U Wisconsin, Ole Miss, Harvard, at Edward’s blind and misguided insistence, a few others as insurance — and had gotten acceptance letters from a few. Not Harvard. She guessed even Carlisle’s donations couldn’t shield her from her average GPA. Another persistent side-effect of her extreme depressive episode. 

Edward, of course, had been furious, betrayed, livid. Weeks of hounding her for marriage ended in a terse exchange of arguments — no, I won’t marry you, no, I won’t turn you, no, I won’t forgive you for leaving me comatose for months and then holding your own life over my head. I won’t forgive you, I won’t forgive you, I won’t forgive you.

Bella dumped the remaining shirts on the floor, and dragged her feet all the way to the armchair, collapsing into the leather. A deep exhale escaped her chest. “Christ, I need — “ Appearing from nowhere, Alice deposited a cold beer into her hand. “ — A drink — Jeez, you’ve been having a field day with the visions today. What’s that about?”

Alice curled into the small sofa, leaning over the armrest to face her. A bottle swung languidly from her fingers. The soft orange glow of the lamps shone on her dark hair, her cheekbones, and the fabric of her coat. 

Alice popped the cap off her own beer, avoiding Bella’s gaze. “Things have just been really vivid today. That’s all.”

“Vivid how?”

Alice sipped her beer. “I don’t know how to describe it. Like everything that… Happened, it was all inevitable. And all the consequences are bright, clear visions, because deep inside, nobody has any doubt about what’s to come.” She smacked her lips in distaste. “This is really gross, you know that, right?”

Bella frowned. Jasper had tried for months to teach her the joys of gin and tonic, but Charlie’s taste for beer was hereditary — another point of contention between her and _him_. “I guess Edward probably agrees with you.”

Something between sadness, bittersweet joy, and peace settled onto Alice’s features. “You know, you’re allowed to talk about it. To me.”

“About what? You drink blood, what would you know about beer?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Alice’s tone was decisive. Bella suppressed her instinctual defensiveness. She mentally rattled off the impending accusations, preparing defenses for each. No argument came, just silence.

Bella toyed with the droplets collecting on the outside of her bottle. Who could she have talked to? Her dad, blissfully ignorant to how Edward had broken into her room every night for a year? Jessica, who, despite her strange breed of teenage wisdom, couldn’t help her megaphone-like thoughts of disgust? Angela, kind and forgiving, who would infuriatingly see both sides of the coin? Jacob, who didn’t need any more reason to hate Edward, and was still getting over his infatuation with her?

Once, she had called Renee about it, on the verge of tears. Renee joyfully recounted her adventures with Phil, and in her enthusiasm, had missed the cracks in Bella’s voice, the notes of sadness. 

So, no, she didn’t talk to anyone about it. She just picked up Charlie’s drinking habit, and got really into watching baseball with him.

“It’s a good beer,” Bella said. “Maybe you should catch a game with Charlie, let him and Billy coach you.”

Alice scoffed. “I know how to drink.” She took a gulp for demonstration. When she pulled the bottle away, her lips shone. Her nose scrunched up in catlike disgust.

“Uh-huh.” She kept thinking about Alice’s graceful motions even in the mundane. The arch of her fingers as she tipped the bottle into her mouth. The slope of her neck.

“Listen, Bella… I know it’s hard for you to talk about what happened with Ed—"

“I really love how we can just enjoy a beer together in silence, as friends.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “Anyway… I know it’s hard to talk about sensitive things, but you know I won’t judge you. We all love you. We’re here for you no matter what happens — “

“Woah, what’s all this ‘we’ talk? Staging an intervention? I’m not really looking to collect AA tokens.” 

“Stop interrupting! And stop avoiding the subject. _I_ won’t judge you. _I_ love you. And I, Alice Cullen, would like you to actually talk about your problems instead of pretending like they don’t exist. Talk to me. Please.”

“What are you, my psych?”

“Well, I do have multiple psychology degrees. But no. I’m not. I’m just… someone who really cares about _both_ of you, and I think it would be good for you to let it out.”

Bella cradled her drink, glaring at the floor.

Alice extended her hand, and met the first two knuckles of Bella’s clasped hand with her own, running them up and down gently. The soft pressure lulled Bella into tranquility. She looked down. The skin of her hands was inhumanly smooth, cool, unyielding. 

The last few weeks weighed heavily on Bella’s mind, and Alice was trying to coax them out of her. “I’m gonna end up talking about it anyway, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Bella breathed deeply. “I felt suffocated. He wanted so much, so fast, and was convincing me that _I_ was the one that wanted too much too soon, to the point where I was pushing him for something he wanted and he was saying no — Alice, it was really stupid. And childish. And now, after a year of stability, finding out that it was all just manipulative bullshit because he was scared to admit that he was pushy, I just — I feel tired. I want a break. I don’t want to get married right now. I don’t know if I’ll want that in the next decade. I just want to be… me, by myself.”

Alice looked away. “He’s scared you’ll grow out of him. You’re already older than him. Almost older than me, too,” she said with a sad smile.

Misplaced rage heated her face. Bella pulled her hand back, staring baffled at her. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? He’s, what, over a hundred years old? I’m fucking nineteen, Alice!”

“He was turned at seventeen… You know how some people say the drinking age should be older?”

“And those same people think joining the army and buying guns at eighteen is totally cool? Yeah, what about it?” If Alice took the bait, as unlikely as it was, she could at least lie back and pretend the last few weeks hadn’t happened.

“Bella, please — Carslisle says brains stop developing at twenty-five. Vampires are frozen in time. Edward’s just… stuck. He might have a hundred years’ worth of information, but he’s still got a seventeen year old’s mind. Forever. You don't.”

Edward’s immaturity, the way he held himself hostage for months, the emotional blackmail, the controlling… It all fell into place. Edward was a boy, afraid of his lover turning into a woman. But he would never force her to stem her natural changes. So instead, he begged her to _want_ to stop growing.

Being forced to confront denial was uncomfortable. Too uncomfortable, too much to unpack without self-medicating. Bella stood abruptly. She walked to the kitchen and withdrew a second beer from the fridge, then a third, and the entire pack. 

She knocked her second beer back fast enough to make her head spin, against Alice’s protests from the living room. Alice couldn’t understand. It was one thing to know she would age, if his mind aged, too. But to be a grown woman, with a seventeen year old? Elderly, aging, with a boy? 

She supposed it was a moot point when she would inevitably be turned. An inevitable consequence of their pact with the Volturi. But Bella wasn't a child anymore — the idea filled her with fear and rage. Edward's pitiable attempts at manipulation fell flat. Maybe she would have been happiest if she had been turned two years ago, still a girl in the grip of a new and dangerous infatuation. Wendy and Peter Pan.

Now, the thought of turning felt more like condemning herself to Edward forever. Would Alice see her doubts in the vision of her future? 

“Bella. Bella, come on.” Alice had gotten up to drag her back to the couches. She didn’t begrudge her the six-pack.

Bella kept a hand on Alice's shoulder and pretended it was to keep her steady.

The two of them fell back onto the small couch. Alice’s leg slid against her own as they sat. 

Bella had always thought the Cullens reclusive, mysterious, aloof about the wisdom that came from age. But maybe they just didn’t have any. Edward, Alice, Jasper. Emmett, who had promised to be her older brother forever. Rosalie, who always seemed so mature, self-assured, confident in her capacities as a grown woman. She leaned forward onto her knees, holding her head in her hands.

Bella felt Alice rubbing small circles on her back. “God… Should — Am I supposed to leave him? What do I do?” Ugh. A breakdown.

Alice leaned forward to grab her own second drink. “I can’t make that decision for you. This is just why he acts the way he does, sometimes. Or why he acted the way he did.” She sipped again, lost in her own thoughts. Distant.

Bella couldn’t cry. She didn’t want to, not for him. No more tears shed for Edward Cullen. 

Familiar emptiness drained the emotions out of her. She acted quickly, taking another gulp to keep it at bay.

A hand soothed a knot at her back. “You’re gonna get drinking problems if you keep up like this.”

“Am I?”

“Only if you decide to drink your problems away. I’m saying this as your friend who happens to be a licensed therapist, not as a clairvoyant.”

Bella took a tremendous swig.

“I’m now speaking as a clairvoyant: fucking stop.”

The few bottles she had were hitting her, hard. Her fingers were numb. Alice’s cold body pressed against her own through the fabric of their clothes. The seriousness of the situation she found herself in turned into a mirthful absurdity that she had to try hard to keep herself from laughing at. 

“I do have to ask something,” Bella said, having forgotten a solid third of the actors in this strange play.

Alice’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“Where’d Emmett go?” She asked. He came with them on the car ride, and disappeared when Bella came upstairs to her apartment.

“Oh, he’s getting material for your thesis.”

Thesis? She had only just moved into an apartment for her freshman year after an unproductive gap year. Total confusion ran through her mind — she hadn’t even picked her major yet. “But— “

“I’m seeing marine biology. It didn’t even matter if it was kind of blurry. Emmett bought a swimsuit and he said he’s going to fight a shark for you — don’t get mad, I didn’t tell him to,” Alice said. She tugged a disgruntled Bella back into the enveloping warmth of the couch.

Sharks. Emmett would have so much fun. Bella distracted herself with the implications on marine photography. A diver without need for an oxygen tank, or low light goggles, or food. She thought about the depth and fear the open ocean can inspire. How, if not for Alice, and Jacob, her body could have been carried out to where Emmett was now.

Mood swings. At least her depression wasn’t as boring anymore.

“Did he take a camera?” She asked.

Alice grinned wryly. “He did. He promised to send updates when he got back to shore. I think Rosalie is going to be jealous.”

“Why?”

“Rosalie got her M.S. in marine biology in the eighties. So, she can help you write your thesis. You’re welcome.”

“Hey, I’m still undecided.”

Alice laughed. “You’re welcome!”

She supposed that eliminated some of the burden of choice. 

Bella smiled, settling into the warmth of a good buzz, the enormous couch, the feeling of the small body next to hers. She watched Alice out of the corner of her eye. Vampires, she knew, could also enjoy being drunk. It was something to do with the way their bodies processed liquid. Carslisle had explained it to her once. Alice was tipsy. It didn’t show on her face, like it did on Bella’s. She could see it in the looseness of her shoulders, her lidded eyes, and slight part to her mouth. Alice’s eyelashes were long. Bella examined the upward curve to her nose. A lock of hair curled against her temple. Her eyeshadow was flawless.

Alice smiled slowly, knowingly. “What?”

Bella turned away, focusing on the bitter foaminess in her mouth. “Nothing. I should really get a TV in here, shouldn’t I?”

Quiet laughter this time. Alice squared her shoulders toward her. She had to drag both of her legs onto the couch to do so. Settling her legs into Bella’s lap, she leaned back against the armrest. Her low cut blouse exposed the skin of her chest. 

Alice took another sip.

Bella watched the play of muscles in her forearm. She imagined the taut, steel-like tendons start the motion in her shoulder, to her bicep, wrist, and finally to her delicate fingers. Alice tilted her head back, showing her pale porcelain skin, the shifting cords in her neck, ending at her fragile collarbones. It was hypnotic. Like watching a tiger prowl, small, insignificant muscles moving in concert, part of a larger predator. The barest glimmers danced across her skin. Tiny diamonds, razor sharp.

Alice had been watching her. Almost imperceptibly, under half-lidded eyes, obscured by her long eyelashes. Her eyes flitted over Bella’s face, her body. Self-awareness struck her like a hammer.

“Oh. Huh, I guess we’re drunk.” Bella said.

“Speak for yourshelf - fuck, your _self_ , god. Don’t make fun of me.”

“I won’t,” she responded, smiling. “Damn. We’re real lightweights.”

Alice’s features opened up in exaggerated offence. “What are you complaining about? I’m going to be drunk for days! I’ve already drank more than Edward can or ever will.” She puffed her chest out a little.

“Yeah, it's really impressive how you outdrank a prohibitionist.” 

“Har-har.”

Bella’s nose scrunched. “How’s being drunk work for you, anyway?”

“It’s like being human drunk but your liver doesn't work so you won’t be sober for like, three days.” She waved a hand. “It’ll get metabolized out of me somehow, once I’ve fed.”

“How’s somehow?” Bella became aware of Alice’s legs in her lap. Idly, she unlaced her sneakers. A thought about tying her laces together flitted through her mind, but instead, she slid them off Alice’s feet. Her thumbs grazed the skin of her ankles. The dirty shoes thudded onto the floor. 

Alice wiggled her toes. “I don’t know, magic. Vampire high society is very anti-science.”

“Wow. So, I should keep blood bags around? In case we do this again?” Bella squinted.

“Yes, you should, because we will. But I’m fine. I like how I feel right now. A lot,” She said, a little jovial, pushing her to ask the obvious.

The implication was clear as glass, even through the haze in her mind. It left her feeling a little stupid. In retrospect, she should have realized the innocent touching between them wasn’t innocent at all. Their relationship had always been colored in brief, blinding flashes of desire, painted over by shame and denial.

She knew Alice could hear her mounting pulse. Surely, her inhuman senses had detected the heat rising to her face, maybe even the dilation of her eyes. How she tried to control her breathing. 

"How do you feel right now?" Bella ventured, mostly as a formality.

"Like you."

Bella was adult enough that it didn't come as a surprise. Yet still, her heart beat even quicker. She thought about the memory of Alice's hair, errant, messy bob, years ago when they were introduced. Or the bright golden glow of her irises, equal parts fear and relief, when Alice had come back to Forks after the incident. Her smell, her hard granite shoulders when Bella held her as tightly as she could. Hundreds of memories of her preserved in amber. How could she have been so oblivious? 

Bella laughed, a little uncomfortably, at herself. "Maybe you should do something about it. I mean, I just — I'm not…"

Fabric shifted against the couch. Alice sat up, and slid herself into Bella’s lap. She saved Bella’s half-finished bottle by plucking it out of her hands, leaning forwards to place the drink on the side table. The motion pushed her exposed skin and the buttons of her coat into Bella’s face. 

Alice straddled her thighs. Alice Cullen, vampire supermodel, straddling her, Bella "C+" Swan. Her cool hands traced circles on her exposed wrists. Heat, desire, and a sense of presence muddled by alcohol flowed through Bella. A throbbing settled in her center. She imagined running her hands up and down Alice’s sides, thinking about how her naked skin would feel. Cold, like a statue. Like unyielding marble.

The boldest move Bella could muster was threading her fingers through Alice’s belt loops. 

Opposite her, Alice, too, seemed reluctant. “I knew this would happen, but I thought I’d respect your relationship enough to not want it so bad.”

The real world flicked through her mind like an unremarkable slideshow, littered with important information she couldn’t bring herself to care about. “What about — ?”

“Jasper knew before I did. Which means Edward knew before I did, too. I think he didn’t want to admit it.”

Bella had always prided herself on her ability to keep her emotions under lock and key. The attraction she felt for Alice was obscured with fake sisterly love. But she should have known that privacy didn't exist in the Cullen household. Jasper would have felt the tension before either of them realized it was there. It seemed obvious now. She exhaled. In the end, her emotional whirlwind settled on relief.

Bella slipped a hand under Alice’s coat, holding her waist, feeling the coolness of her skin under her palm. No softness — ice under a sheath of skin. A hand pressed flat against her chest. Alice slid her hands up Bella’s chest to her neck. The cold felt familiar. Inviting.

Alice grabbed her chin. Her eyes were a deep, mellow gold, half-fed, but yearning, hungry. “I don't want you to have any doubts. Are you sure about this?”

Desire overwhelmed her, along with a sense of inevitability. A freedom. “Yeah, are you?” Bella pulled her body down to her own, repositioning to lie against the armrest. Their legs shifted together. She wanted to grind into Alice’s hips. 

“Yes,” Alice breathed, pulling her in. 

Cathartic release, a breath into her mouth, and she held the body against her own, gripping the sleeves of the coat, returning another kiss when Alice tangled her fingers in her hair. Her heart pounded, and she knew Alice could hear it. The soft noises she made into her mouth made Bella’s mind spin. It felt like a dam broke. 

Alice withdrew her hands, beginning to undo her own coat. She growled low, a sound rumbling from her chest into Bella's mouth, giving away her power. She could rip all the clothes off of them in an instant. Distantly, Bella wished hers would be spared.

They separated long enough for Alice to slide her coat off, revealing the porcelain skin of her arms. Alice undid the top button of her tight pants. Beneath, Bella saw a tight triangle of lace, dark floral patterns. One of Alice’s hands clenched against Bella’s knit sweater.

Alice’s voice was hard with hunger. “How much do you like this top?” 

“A lot. Give me a second.” 

Bella sat up, pulling the sweater over her head, too intoxicated to feel self conscious. She didn’t care for bras. Alice watched the fabric drag up her body, over her chest, and down her softly defined arms. An opportunity for touch. Her hands raised prickles where they met Bella’s bare skin. Alice’s strange, flat, sharp smell, hidden by an expensive perfume, hung like a cloud over them.

Feebly, Bella gripped the fabric of Alice's shirt. “Off — “

Alice merely tore the fabric from herself sharply. She tossed the shirt to the ground. Bella was paralyzed by her, sitting over her wearing nothing but a lace bra, her pants slipping down to reveal matching underwear. Alice stripped out of them with her unnatural speed and grace. 

No matter how aroused, and glad she was to not have to deal with the logistics of taking pants off, the speed of the motion left her reeling. “Slower, I want to go slow,” Bella said. “Human speed. I want to enjoy it.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “You’re not enjoying this?” Her thumbs hooked around her lace underwear, pulling up to expose the crease of her thigh and hip. _How did I ever think I was into men?_

“Focus, Bella,” Alice teased softly, and the sound of her name escaping her mouth felt like rapture. She wanted to sit up, but the legs over her waist stopped her. “Watch. Enjoy it. We’re going human speed.”

No doubt blood was pooling in her face, neck, and chest. That was surely part of the appeal of sleeping with her. Impatience struck her. “Thought human speed was over and done in ten minutes,” Bella exhaled. 

“Then we’re going slowly.” 

Alice reached behind her and unhooked the clasp of her bra. She laughed a little at Bella’s wide eyes, poking her tongue out. Toying with her, she pulled the wires up and down, giving glimpses but nothing else. The taut muscles of her middle and chest flowed smoothly under her skin. She rolled her hips, slowly, patiently, grinding hard against her.

Bella's underwear was soaked through. Alice had to know.

“How long do these stay on?” Bella asked, running a hand up Alice’s thigh, and slipping her fingers under the black lace. A small shiver shook through Alice. 

“Until you take your pants off.”

Well, she didn't need to be asked twice.

Bella enthusiastically began the ordeal of pushing her pants down to her hips and kicking them off. Alice laughed, basking in the joy of being wanted by someone she wanted. Maybe at Bella’s floundering, too.

"Here, wait, I'll help!" Alice reached backwards.

Bella felt a tug, and then a scissor-like sharpness digging into the denim. "Alice, don't you fucking dare —" 

The jeans ripped slow and loudly. Alice grinned back stupidly with the contentment of a well-fed cat. Her teeth gleamed in the low light. 

Bella frowned and sighed. 

Alice leaned over her, laying her hands flat on Bella's middle. "Relax! I'll get you new ones. You'll love them. I swear." 

In truth, Bella couldn't care less about the pants. They were old enough to be antique. Being indignant about her torn jeans gave her a semblance of control over the situation, which was rapidly disappearing, as Alice hovered the pads of her fingers over her ribs and kissed her again. Bella could only clutch onto Alice's lace panties. She numbered her breaths. 

One, exhale. 

Two, exhale. Alice shared her breath, licking into her mouth. 

Three, exhale. 

Alice could kill her now, if she wanted to. Stick a finger under a rib, pop it out, then the next, one, two, three. Maybe she would push her sternum in, caving her chest open, exposing her heart. Or simply crush her body and crumple her like a ragdoll. Her blood would paint her pale skin red, run in rivulets down her arms, and Alice would run her tongue over her fingers, savoring it.

Bella shivered.

It was hard to conceive that it almost happened once. When James had broken her body in Phoenix, Alice had protected her, yes, but not before having a taste for herself. Bella remembered the darkness of Alice's eyes, hands shaking, self-restraint careening out of her grasp. She wondered if Alice fantasized about killing her. 

Despite the hidden power of her small body, that she could snuff out Bella's life like a candle, Alice moved languidly. Serpentine. The gold of her irises had shrunk down to a sliver. She lowered her mouth to Bella's chest, and with her tongue, traced a long line up to Bella's collarbone, up to her pulse. 

Her breath hitched. There was no helping it. 

"Like that?" Alice smiled into her neck. A different cold sharpness dragged over the column of her throat, which Bella distantly recognized as teeth.

She mustered a groan in response. Her hands moved of her own volition, cording themselves into Alice's slick hair, pulling her in closer. Bella was panting, now. Alice continued to trail her fangs up her neck, threatening to pierce her skin.

Instead, Alice traced the hollow of her jaw, biting her lightly. Waves of desire, affection, dizziness, overwhelmed her. She felt herself drip on the couch. 

A quiet little voice in the back of her mind protested. _You're average, a virgin, and not even single, and you want to fuck your boyfriend's sister?_

Something inside her fought her. An impulse to push her away, leave, think long and hard about what she was doing — _is it cheating if I want to break up with him for good?_ — briefly surrounded Bella. Conscience was a weak, half-hearted thing, a buoy alight on the storm raging inside her. Inevitably, it would sink, powerless against the all-consuming power of an ocean. But it was just like her to root for the underdog. 

“Hey, uh,” she said, catching her breath between kisses. Immediate anxiety. She was ruining it. 

Couldn't she just take a good thing and run with it? 

Alice blinked, snapped out of a trance state. “Bella?” She retreated carefully. The wet patches of skin on her neck dried coolly. She already regretted her decision.

“I just — Um…” She felt pathetic, in light of how aroused she was. Her body rebelled. It ached for her touch. Surely, that desire was sin enough alone, already condemning her? What was sex between friends in comparison? Shouldn't she just enjoy herself for once, after everything she had been put through?

Shame twisted Alice’s face for a moment. “Oh— I’m sorry, I didn’t think this through — ”

“No, no, Alice, wait,” Bella said, grabbing her forearm, trapping her in place. She ran a hand through her hair, trying not to look at her bare marble thighs. Shit. “I’m not… I’m not saying no, forever, it’s just…” _Edward._ The drinks, leaving a fuzzy tingling in the tips of her fingers. _Jasper._ An uncomfortable twang in her chest, pleading at her not to destroy Alice's niche in her life for an awkward one-night stand. “I just don’t want my first time to be drunk," she settled. A cheap but respectable excuse.

“Oh — It— It’s okay, I mean, yeah, of course,” Alice laughed, awkwardly, distracting herself with a stray lock of hair. “I should have thought about that, stupid me, sorry.”

Alice withdrew her body from on top of Bella slowly. The absence of weight over her disoriented Bella. The cold shock of air sobered her senses immediately. Bella’s anxiety twisted itself into knots, having nearly ruined not one, but two marriages, and snapped a family down the middle. _Did it count as a ruined marriage if she was never planning to say yes?_

Bella sat up. Alice sat a handspan away from her, hands clenching and unclenching the couch. Her eyes flitted between the armchair and the wall. Suddenly, Alice moved, and began to collect what survived of her discarded clothes.

Bella stood too. She wanted to barricade the doors, shut the windows. 

“Hey, I’m not. I’m not angry, or anything. Don’t leave. I — Ah, I had a…” _A good time? The most overwhelming sexual moment of my very limited experience?_ “It was good,” Bella muttered.

Alice smiled flatly, not reaching her eyes. “You don’t have to try to make me feel better. I'm a big girl. I honestly, sincerely apologize. I'm — I won't do it again, I'm sorry.” She clasped her bra behind her.

Dread sunk her heart into the pit of her stomach. “Alice —” She was packing her phone and makeup into her purse. Bella took a sharp breath. It was embarrassing to admit her arousal out loud. “I really, like, _really_ enjoyed it. We’re both adults and we both wanted it. There’s just… A lot more involved.”

Alice was already shrugging her coat on. “Yeah, of course,” she said, without discomfort. Just remorse. “Maybe this can be a funny, awkward story later?” She asked, wishfully, doubtfully, knowingly.

Some of the tension leaked out of her. Defused, inert. Their relationship was safe for now. It could be a lapse of judgement. 

She really didn't want it to be a lapse of judgement.

“Sure. Yeah.” Bella couldn’t disagree. It would break the illusion that things could go back to the way they were.

She became suddenly aware of her nudity. A hot flash warmed her face again. “I’m gonna go get some clothes,” she said, pacing off to her bedroom. “Don’t go anywhere?”

“Okay.”

The bedroom door slid open on a rail. It was a marker of Carlisle’s expense on her, despite her separation from Edward that they all thought was temporary. Just another thing to feel guilty about. She plucked an oil-stained, vintage t-shirt and black panties from a cabinet of meticulously organized nightwear. Alice must have done this, she thought. The shirts were arranged by color, a flat, monotone rainbow, that extended only to dull greens and navy blue. 

The bed was neatly made, gray covers tucked carefully, as if taken from a magazine. The blinds were open. Outside, the night sky was a deeper blue than she was used to. Yellow lamp posts bounded the overlook and sea. This town had little cloud cover and brighter stars than Forks. Another vindictive choice. She wondered when Edward would stop making her decisions for her.

When she returned, Alice was calmly lacing her shoes. Alice's eyes flickered down to her bare legs and she frowned. Maybe if Bella was smarter, she would have forgotten it, but she took a mental snapshot. Proof enough she was tempting. Something to think about when she felt wretchedly ugly.

“Sorry,” Bella said. “I was scared you’d be gone.”

“You told me to stay.”

“Yeah, um, where are you — where are you going?” She hoped she didn’t sound as offended as she felt.

Alice refused to meet her eyes. “Emmett must be finished by now, I was going to join him. Maybe we’ll explore the woods together.” A euphemism for hunting.

“You’re not driving, right?”

Alice rolled her eyes. Bemusement. “I’ll leave the car here. Emmett will want to say goodbye.”

Guilt. “I’m not kicking you out, you know.”

“I’m kicking myself out.”

“You don’t have to.” _Please stay._

Alice was already at the door, fiddling with the deadbolt.

“But I will,” she said, smiling, barely distinguishable from her usual brightness. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bella.”

And in a blink, she had opened and shut the door behind her, leaving Bella alone.

She turned to face the empty room. Alice’s torn blouse was stretched out under her own ripped jeans and underwear. A painful little riposte, revenge for walking out of her room the way she did. 

Brown bottles littered the coffee table. She had forgotten to pick up the ashtray.


	2. bonus; weird fishes/arpeggi

The boat floated somewhere fifty miles west of the California shoreline. Emmett rowed it out himself, unwilling to spend money on a motorized rental he would have to pay the damages on. All in all, the whole ordeal went surprisingly well. Humans didn’t question why someone like him would want to row out to the middle of the ocean. It seemed, to them, like he was trying for a world record, or maybe the Olympic rowing team.

Training, he said! Free diving! Scuba diving! Underwater photography! I do bar-mitzvahs! And funerals!

The shore was barely visible. If he stood up, and focused his vision, he could see little ants packing up their umbrellas and coolers. The sun was setting, and it was getting cold. 

He stuck a hand in the water. Bath temperature, fifty-four degrees. 

Long scales of sunlight danced over the surface of the water. Emmett took a deep breath. Brine and salt, the smoke of a fishing barge upwind, chum refuse from a seagull buffet. The overwhelming sound of infinite waves cascading over one another, lapping at his tiny dinghy.

Okay. He could do this. It wasn’t so bad. He tightened the camera strap snugly around his neck.

The adrenaline from the bear attack never really left him. It was permanently etched in his blood, always forcing him to fight or flee. He couldn’t tell which in this instant. A morbid curiosity pulled him down. A fake, play-concern for Bella’s education. It didn’t matter. He was testing his bravery.

He grinned wildly. If he didn’t do it now, he never would. He gulped down air.

Emmett jumped, and sank like a boulder.

Water rushed into his ears and down his throat. Maintaining air pressure would be difficult — if he exhaled, he would lose what little buoyancy his body afforded him. He continued to fall. His grip on his wetsuit threatened to poke holes in the material.

He wasn’t scared. Emmett Cullen, afraid?

Little fishes, quick-moving spears cutting the water, surrounded him. They were yellow, thin, with flecks of reflective blue. The sun sank under the horizon, turning them into technicolor needles. The light began to disappear. The dark maw of the open ocean grew darker still.

He fought the instinct to swallow. Instead, he raised the camera. A little creature looked into the viewfinder curiously. The rest were camouflaged against the sky, imperceptible. He took the shot. A bright flash scattered them, and the school abandoned him as he sunk to deeper water.

Kicking his out, he began to tread, guiding himself down. It wasn't easy, weighing as much as he did, but the infinite endurance and strength helped. The current gently pulled him from shore. Eventually, he would land on the bottom, a sandy slope until he could walk to land, or swim back up.

Suddenly, the barest taste — nothing more than a tickle. Tasting blood in the water was like catching snowflakes on your tongue. Immaterial, gone before you knew it, even if you were paying attention.

Sharks, feeding.

He grinned.

Despite their strength above land, vampires were weaker predators here, beholden to pressure, the currents, and senses incompatible with the depths. A shark would have smelled the feast from miles away. Even if Emmett could hear a doe blink in a forest, it was impossible for him to match the unparalleled detection of water predators in their own territory. 

Right now, this would work to his advantage. A shorter distance until his goal. The blood was undoubtedly coming from nearby, if even he could taste it, diluted as it was. There was a delightful sweetness in it, like fresh water, like honey, like — 

Human blood.

Emmett frowned. A small part of him wanted to turn back before he did something he would regret. The larger, more curious part of him wondered what a human would be doing fifty miles from shore. There was no sound of rowing, nor the short shockwaves of an idling boat motor. Inexplicable.

Then again, what was _he_ doing out here?

He paddled forward with three limbs, holding the camera in his free hand. He was big enough to hold it one-handed. It was relatively inexpensive — zoom function out of date, so he wouldn’t know more until he approached the scene. Unfortunately, it had been the only one in stock within one hundred miles when he decided to make the impulse trip. He needed to get much closer.

The taste grew stronger. It flowed into his sinuses, down his throat, teasing him. He couldn’t drink — lose his air and he would sink like a shipwreck. It would take him days to walk back to shore, maybe longer, forced back into the pathetic frailty of a mortal man by the sheer pressure of a dozen atmospheres over him. 

He imagined himself sinking down, down, down, too weak even with his monstrous strength to move, an unremarkable surface feature for the bottom feeders. Coral and barnacles would grow on his face, and cover his skin. Anemones would make their homes on his outstretched arms. Eels would snake down his throat and twist into his intestines, his mouth gaped in a neverending scream. Generations of fish would live and die in front of his unchanging field of vision. An aquarium he was never allowed to look away from, a peaceful little hell. As the seas rose, maybe one day, the pressure would finally shatter him.

He wasn’t afraid, that’s stupid, who do you think you are? _Emmett Cullen, afraid?_

A stray, smaller than the rest, waiting for his turn on the scraps, swam alongside him. The shark watched him. Emmett took his picture, but the flash didn’t impress it. It kept pace. Mocking him?

_I’m better than you, you stupid fuck. I have a degree._

He didn’t have a degree.

He kept following the taste of human blood, until the distant vibrations of fast-moving swimming tapped his eardrums. Five? Six sharks? A dozen?

A pair of broken red glasses floated by, startling him. 

The congregation came into focus, first as a dark mass, then as the writhing of fins and muscled bodies ripping and tearing a leg from a body. 

He began taking pictures. The sharks ignored him.

They had eaten away any distinguishing features, including the face. The corpse had chin-length, pitch-dark hair, scalp split apart in places where something had pulled it hard, ripping flesh. It was Bella’s height, but bigger in build. Tanned, like the Quileutes, but without the tattoo — in place of it, a circular cookie-cutter bite mark, like a human jaw. The sharks circled quickly. Soon, the body would be reduced to shards of bone.

The blood, dragged out on their fins, mixed thoroughly with the water, flooded his mouth. Dread and thirst warred, before dread conquered him.

He surfaced as quickly as he could.

The moonlight helped him locate his dinghy — along with a scent trail of… alcohol? The ocean breeze wafted it toward him. He didn’t remember it smelling like booze before he descended. He would never have risked it drunk. He barely managed it sober.

He swam toward it, following the smell, and then the — crying?

“Alice?” he called, when he was within a few meters of the boat.

“It’s me,” Alice’s familiar, chime-like voice said, dulled. 

He pulled himself onto the dinghy from behind. Sure enough, there she was, soaked in saltwater, curled as if she were rocking herself to sleep. 

“Did you _swim?”_

“No, Emmett, I flew.” She wiped her wet hair from her eyes. “What do you think?”

“Alright, alright,” he said. He shook out the water trapped in his wetsuit, making his own mess in the process. “What’s got you like this?”

She didn’t look drunk, but he could tell just by her smell, and the way she hugged her legs to her chest. No tears — vampires couldn’t cry. Still, dry sobbing could be little cathartic sometimes. He wanted to hold her. Nobody like Alice should ever feel upset. Mostly because Alice had the unique quality of being able to make everyone around her feel sad that she was sad.

“I really, really, _really_ messed up, Em,” she said, looking up at him through uncooperative, soaked strands of hair. “God, Edward is _never_ going to talk to me again…”

“Hold up, slow down, I don’t know what’s going on,” he said, gingerly patting her on the back. “Alright — what’d you do this time?”

Alice stared straight at her shoes and nowhere else. “I — Bella and I — we — ugh, I don’t know, I mean, it didn’t go far, not as far as I was _sure_ it was going to go, because I saw it, and of course _Edward_ had to be there when I saw it, right after Bella changed schools —”

He ran through the possible explanations in his head. Changed her? No, don’t be dumb, she would never do that without talking to everyone. Got drunk together? Well, yeah, that seemed likely, just off of smell alone. Something else? 

“God, watching you think is like watching a snail race,” she said. "We almost slept together."

He winced. _Accidents happen?_ That didn't sound right.

"Oh," he managed. 

"Yup."

"Huh," he said, weighing the possibilities. "That doesn't sound that bad. I didn't know you were into girls."

"Emmett! That's _not_ the problem! I'm married!"

"So what? You and Jasper are always separating anyway, what does it matter —"

“— I took the one person Edward had ever fallen in love with, moved her to a different state, and then hooked up with her! If that's not bad, then I have no idea what —" 

"Al, holy shit, calm down," he laughed. This was so typical. "Edward will get over himself eventually. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, probably not within the next decade. C'mon, we all saw it coming. She wasn't just gonna stay seventeen forever. And we all like, _saw_ the way you treated each other..."

Alice was too distraught to hear it. "Edward _saw_ us have sex. And then it didn't even happen! The vision was so clear. Embarrassingly. Clear. I was… we were definitely — Sure, a few details were out of place, but I thought…" She trailed off.

Emmett pat her on the back, soundly, hard enough to knock a horse over. "It's not that big a deal. I promise. Edward will forgive you. Jasper will forgive you. It might take Rose a hundred years but she'll probably forgive you too. And Bella, Bella's... Look, I’m just sayin’, she wasn’t hiding it. And like, you're not gonna stop the Volturi, and we know you're the one that's gonna change her, so. Maybe you’re making a big deal about something happening that was already gonna happen."

She was quiet then, dripping saltwater onto her shoes. Her hair had dried into a stupid looking starfish. But he wasn't going to say that, no, not while she was suffering. He wrapped her up in his arms. His chest and arms engulfed her little body.

Alice hugged back. "Maybe you're right."

Emmett let her sit on the edge of the boat. "I know it sucks but… Let Jazz go and do his thing, and let Bella talk to Edward. He'll come around. You deserve to be happy. If it's for a day, so what, for years, so what? Just let whatever you've got with her play out, sis. Nobody is going to blame you for being happy."

Okay, so, maybe he was pushing a little hard for Bella to be a part of their family. But, like he said, it's not that big a deal.

And maybe he was trying to avoid talking about the dead body that would inevitably surface within a few minutes. So what?

"Hey, let's get out of here, okay?" he said, already beginning to row the dinghy back to shore. "We can hunt in the woods up north, get the Jeep in the morning, sound good?" 

Alice nodded, a little smile finally gracing her face. "Yeah. Thanks, Em. You're always good to talk to."

"I try," he said. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

He rowed a little faster. Soon, the body would meet fresh air — if they were both hungry, nobody was left to curb their impulses. His lips twisted. He didn’t mind the thought of slipping up for the first time in decades, not so much, but Alice? Alice would torture herself after what happened tonight. He wasn’t sure he was ready for Edward round two.

Alice looked at him quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“Remind me to show you some photos when we get to shore.”

While he rowed, Alice leaned over the side of the boat, her reflection staring back at her. He knew the situation with Bella was more serious than he originally thought when she neglected to smooth her hair back down.

The ocean sprayed saltwater into his face. It brought with it the pungent staleness of the human corpse. Flat, diluted, desiccated blood. He winced. “Hey, don’t breathe.”

Alice’s head snapped to turn in the direction of the wind. He watched her face curl in distaste, eyebrows furrowed in resistance of temptation, eyes cinched shut. She covered her nose and mouth and coughed. Not a bad idea to clear the airways, but, it didn’t make much of a difference when the breeze shot it straight into her lungs. She descended into a coughing fit.

The dinghy hit the shore, dredging up rocks and dirt. 

She peeked an eye at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked angrily.

“I was gonna. I have pictures, like I said.”

He leaned forward, flicking through the camera roll, until he pinpointed the body.

“Shark attack?” Alice mused.

Emmett shook his head. “Right shoulder. See the teeth?”

Alice ripped the camera away from him and held it close to her face. A second was all she needed to recognize the fang marks. She looked back up at him, distress and confusion whirling in her. 

Emmett took the camera back. “It’s gotta be Victoria, right?

“It must be,” she said decisively. “We’ve got to get her back to Forks. It’s not safe for her here.”

“Relax. Bella does _not_ want to go back. Sucks hard enough that they pretty much broke up, do you really just want to lock her up in our house? What good would that do? Sides, Victoria’s alone. I mean, I’m not saying I want to take her, but I totally could, you know?”

“Emmett. We have to. I have to keep her safe no matter what, Bella — “

Emmett scowled. “You really have to pull the same shit Edward did? You _want_ her to hate you?”

It was a low blow, he could admit that. He could tell by the shattering of her tense expression. Her shoulders dropped low. Once more, she hung her head in her hands. Edward had always treated Bella like a glass doll, and after a while, she began to resent him for it. A little hurt now to save her a lot of hurt in the future.

“God. You’re right,” she chuckled darkly. “I’m no good if I’m just another version of him. We should let her know.”

“We will,” he said, lifting her by the elbow. “There’s some deer up north. We could go get them. And then head over to strategize.”

“Yeah, yeah… You’re right. Okay.”

The moon descended and made way for the rising of the sun. Alice had caught a stag, who's antlers had formed a thorny crown around her as she fed. Emmett caught a pair of does. The smaller kicked a hole in his wetsuit, but he left a change of clothes back at the Jeep. He had to hold the seams together. Luckily, the blood on them washed off cleanly in the ocean. There would be no risk of being caught looking like serial killers.

He coaxed Alice into a corner store to buy Bella some breakfast. The older couple at the counter look bemused, but don't question why he would buy a pound of flour and a jug of syrup less than five minutes after they opened, while wearing a torn speedo and a fishing hat. The lack of concern must have been a college town thing. 

The town itself was quiet, even as it began to wake, early birds driving their old sedans down the two lane main road. The streetlights sputtered out, leaving them to be greeted by the morning, grey, damp, and cool. Seagulls fought over a cheeseburger in the street next to Bella's apartment.

He wondered what it would be like to live here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short half-chapter to set up some plot beats, main chapters will all remain Bella's POV.


	3. house of cards

Morning came. The short spans of rest she achieved were broken by fitful twitching. The first thing she noticed was the pounding in her temples. A hangover.  _ Nice. Go, you. _

The alarm clock’s display helpfully informed her that it would be overcast today, though she had woken on her own. When she peeked through the blinds, she saw the blank slate of flat clouds covering the sky. A police vehicle, blaring its siren, sped through the empty stoplight on the street corner, heading north.

Bella ran her hand through her unwashed hair. She felt sore — last night left its little marks on her, bruises on her hip, a crick in her neck. 

She had dreams about Alice, and in a way, was glad that she hadn’t stayed the night. Bella knew about her sleep talking habit. In the night, she kicked the covers off the bed, writhed restlessly for hours. When she woke, she threw her ruined panties straight in the laundry.

In her dream, Alice, with three fingers in her, whispered into her ear —  _ come slowly.  _

Bella liked torturing herself. It was a fun pastime. She thought about it while she poured a cup of coffee from the auto-timed carafe Esme gifted to her. It started brewing at six in the morning, when the insomnia usually shook her from sleep, and kept it warm until nine. Nowadays, she took her coffee black. The taste grew on her after months of being too exhausted to do more than drag herself down the stairs of Charlie’s house and drink the dredges of the muck he made for himself.

She thought about what would happen if she was the one who slipped inside Alice, holding her smaller body tightly as she leaked over her fingers, listening to her chanting her name. What it would be like to be a marble body beside her — as powerful, as earth-shatteringly beautiful. Two stone angels playing in bed. She wondered what Edward would think of them breaking every rule in the Good Book. Then, she realized she didn’t care that much.

The mug warmed her hands as she swirled the coffee. She walked to the living room, looking down at the face reflected on its surface. Her eyes were baggy. She crossed her legs, uncrossed them again. The cold morning raised prickles on her skin.

The flat had the same large, floor-to-ceiling windows of the Cullen house, facing the ocean, bordered by spartan chestnut frames. From the tenth floor, she could see cars drifting slowly through the street, the tide rising, the street lights flickering off. It was light out.

A courtesy knock interrupted her counting of the waves. “Come in,” she said, without raising her voice. 

The lock unlatched. Loud, heavy footsteps shook the floor, followed by the light padding of Alice’s dancer-gait.

When she looked to the front door, Emmett set down yet another bag of groceries on her kitchen counter. Alice kindly hid herself behind his wide shoulders. Bella didn’t think she could have taken it if they could both smell her arousal at the sight of her.

Bella sighed when she saw the plastic corner store bags. “Guys — more groceries? Really?”

Emmett grinned. His smile made her feel warm, safe. He pulled out a brick of flour and maple syrup. “For pancakes!”

“Oh, yeah? Just put flour over the stovetop and that’s it? No eggs or anything?”

“Wow, that’s so much easier than what I was thinking,” Emmett said cluelessly. “I was gonna try the oven.”

“No worries. I got it, big guy."

Alice smiled innocently at her, but didn’t move from her spot against the wall. Bella was relieved to see the fullness of her golden eyes. Her hair looked different, more bedraggled than the night before, slicked hair traded in for familiar, charming, messy spikes. Her clothes were stiff, almost like they had been starched before they were folded properly. 

Bella smiled back as much as she could, a little curious.  _ What happened? _

Alice glanced away, as if to say,  _ You’ll see soon. _

Emmett looked ridiculous, but she was too used to him as a person to question it. The wetsuit straining against his shoulders had nasty tears in the front. His bucket hat was cinched to his head by an elastic band, adorned with felt fishes. A camera hung off his neck. He was barefoot. As he walked, the stiff salted material of his wetsuit made rubber duck squeaks at her.

Bella had inherited Charlie’s temperament. Like him, she accepted things as they were, and didn't like to ask many questions. 

“So, um. My thesis,” she said lamely.

“Yeah, about sharks,” Emmett started, turning the camera on and flicking rapidly through its contents. “I got a couple good ones, mostly this one —” He showed her one of a single shark peering through the corner of its eyes at the camera. It looked as confused as she was. “— which I thought was cool because —”

“Emmett,” Alice interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. So." His earnest smile shrunk down to a tightening of his lips. “I found something else while I was out there,” he said, motioning for them to take a seat in the living room.

It didn’t escape Bella that Alice chose to perch in the armchair, leaving the couch for Emmett and herself.

“Fair warning, there’s a lot of blood.”

Emmett handed her the camera. Sharks crowded around a mass of meat leaking its juices, taking turns ripping chunks out of it, fighting for a hold on its limbs. Discarded teeth floated in the water. After examining for a minute, she began to register features — fingers, hair, a pair of jeans. 

She suppressed her gag. “What — Why are you showing me this?” she asked, affronted.

“See the bite marks on the arm? They’re from a vampire.”

Bella squinted. It looked like a ring of blood with no definition, just as easily made by a few passing scrapes. “How can you tell?”

“I was there,” Emmett said, nostrils flared, remembering. “The whole thing was off. I couldn’t tell why someone would dump a body in the middle of the ocean like that for no reason.”

Alice finally broke her silence. “Unless they were hiding their tracks.”

Her legs were folded beneath her. Bella caught herself staring at the junction of her skirt and skin, and looked away.

_ Focus, Bella. _

“We think it’s Victoria,” Alice said, snapping her back to attention.

Victoria? Bella had all but forgotten. It made sense — isolated attacks, following her movement, covering her tracks where she could. The disappearances years ago were still missing persons cases. Now, she realized that the bodies were likely submerged. How could Victoria have known that just this once, it wasn’t enough to drag her prey out to sea? Without Emmett's impulsive trip, they would never have realized the hunter was trailing Bella still. 

“I can’t believe she’s still after me.” Bella leaned forward to put her elbows on her knees. Beside her, Emmett steepled his fingers. “I guess she waited until I was out of Forks. The pack was protecting me while you were gone.”

Emmett scoffed. “Well, they were lousy. We should nip this in the bud. Get rid of her,” he said with finality.

Alice shifted around in the armchair. “I think we should call Carlisle,” she said, a nervous edge in her voice. 

If Carlisle knew about Victoria’s presence, then so would Edward. Bella knew the sway he alone had in the family — without a gift like his, the Cullens would be vulnerable to attacks from stronger, human-feeding covens. He would want to lock her away and would claim it was for her safety. Inevitably, the rest of the family would migrate to the bay, leaving Charlie unprotected apart from the few hours he patrolled La Push.

“No,” Bella said, shaking away the vision of her father, dead, waterlogged, worms eating his body to the bone. “Charlie would be defenseless.”

“Not if you went back to Forks.” From the way she spoke, Alice made it clear she had prepared for that particular argument. “We could surround the house again, take shifts —”

Bella took the advantage away from her. “And then what? Wait until Victoria gets bored? Until it’s time to turn me, so the wolves could pick you off one by one for breaking the treaty?”

That forced them both to reflect a moment. Emmett rested his chin on his clasped hands, eyes flitting between the armchair and the floor. Alice stared up at the ceiling, focusing and unfocusing, phasing in and out of a vision.

“Victoria’s trying not to be set in stone,” Alice said after a moment. “She’s counting on her speed, waiting for an opening so she can catch us off guard. She knows she’s outnumbered.”

“We should go on the offensive.” Emmett went through the motion of cracking his knuckles. “She thinks we're playing defense right now, but if we surprise her, we could probably take her between the two of us," he said to Alice. 

It would never work, Bella thought, based on what she knew from Jacob’s reports of the wolf pack. Victoria maneuvered the woods effortlessly, toying with the wolves, dancing between the trees while they barrelled through branches. Somehow, like the hairs on the back of your neck rising, she instinctively knew where their traps were hidden, where members of the pack were waiting in ambush. A surprise attack was akin to suggesting they politely request that she roll over and die.

In the baseball field, where the thunder masked the Cullens’ feats of strength, Laurent's entourage had approached them carelessly. Like opponents who knew they had an insurmountable advantage. James had fought Emmett to a standstill, even with his unmatched strength. He would have killed Edward in moments. It was only when Alice and Edward trapped him in an inescapable position, trading their gifts back and forth, like knights on a chessboard, that Alice had been able to strip James’ head from his shoulders. 

Without a doubt, Emmett and Alice would fall to Victoria as easily as pawns to a queen. 

“You would never beat her,” Bella said, shaking her head in dissent. “She’s faster, stronger, and has this… This instinct, I don’t know… It’s like she knows when she’s about to lose.”

Alice and Emmett exchanged glances. Bella watched Emmett’s lips move quickly, too quickly for human detection, and heard the low rumble of his voice. Alice’s response was quiet, bell-like, birds chirping in the morning. Her mouth was set firmly in anger.

Hot fury flooded Bella, too. “What’s going on? Stop talking like I’m not here.” 

Emmett turned to her with a roll of his eyes, dismissing whatever Alice had said. “I was just saying, if there were three of us instead of two, Victoria would be done.”

“You don’t know that,” Alice growled. “That’s not your decision to make.”

“Chill out, it’s not yours either.” Emmett shrugged. "I'm just putting it out there — we would all be better off if we had a third. That's it."

Bella thought about the body floating dead in the water. Trying to win a war of attrition with Victoria was pointless — it sentenced dozens to gruesome deaths. Even ignoring the human toll, as she fed, the attention around the small town would grow. Edward would worry, and bring the Cullens to bear upon her. Her father would worry, even while he was the one in true danger.

It was an impossible choice. 

To become a vampire would be to submit to herself as she was now, static, unchanging. Her mind, locked in place, would never feel a stronger joy than now, never truly wish to be alive. She and Edward would be kindred spirits — trapped in a fog of never ending depression. 

To hesitate could kill dozens.

Across from the couch, sitting ramrod straight, Alice jumped to attention. "Bella —"

"Emmett's right," she interrupts. "We can’t beat Victoria at her own game. We’ll keep missing her and in the meanwhile, she’ll keep killing people — I won’t let that happen if I can stop it.”

Bella knew she couldn’t stop there, though, as both Alice and Emmett had lived long enough that human mortality was an abstract concept at best. “I can’t ask innocent people to die for me. Besides — the two of you, plus a newborn — we could corner her without risking anyone else. It’s just a smarter choice.”

Emmett, sensing Alice’s rebuttal, pressed his advantage too. “Yeah. Plus — she doesn’t know we’ve seen her. She wants a human Bella to throw around? We’ll give her vampire Bella, and see how she likes it.”

Alice meditated soundlessly. Looking at her, Bella couldn’t see signs of life, no breathing, none of the human mannerisms that set the Cullens apart from the mummified stillness of the Volturi. Her eyes bored holes in the wall. 

Seconds passed — eternity for a quick-witted vampire. Bella popped her knuckles, bounced her leg, her heart beating faster and faster. Anxiety ate away at her, every second of indecision turning into a missing persons case, another bloated corpse suspended in the ocean. The soundness of her logic and strength of her argument were dissolving in front of her.

What if it was like with Edward? Would Alice fight her every step of the way, stalling for a murderer, waiting until the weight of the decision wore her down to nothing? How many people would die because she was fragile, weak, and powerless?

A seed of self-loathing, forgotten, sprouted in her heart again.

Alice looked at her, in that moment. She must have seen something in her dead stare. 

Alice breathed deeply, as if to center herself. “You’re right,” she said. "I know you're right. It's happening anyway. It may as well happen now."

"Victoria's paranoid," Emmett said. "She’s too cautious to come check us out openly. That'll give us an edge until she knows for sure we're here. We could take shifts keeping Bella safe, but leave room to bait her in, so she’s stuck in the area.”

It could work. Three days with Emmett, three days with Alice, and the last to herself, to tempt her closer. Break rhythm as little as possible, get Victoria accustomed to her schedule. Maybe she would go out to the local pub, or take a nighttime stroll on the beach. Victoria would orbit her like a satellite, until she grew too hungry to bear it, and then she would strike without the safety of a clear plan. Then, the three of them could corner her, and force her to surrender.

All after she was turned, of course. Her human fragility would serve no purpose other than as bait. It was risky. So, so risky. But, for once, it gave them a semblance of control over the situation. There were few things as inevitable as a vampire’s thirst.

The three of them hammered out the details — she would never be in real danger when one of them was by her side, but the seventh day, she needed to be careful. Not engaged in risky behaviors to the extreme, yet flippant enough about her safety to delude Victoria into believing she had an opening, with the two of them within a five-minute distance, just to be safe. For as long as it took, they would toy with her until she reached the cusp of starvation. Then, Bella would be waiting for her on the last day, no longer human.

Emmett left to patrol the area, scope out the places where Victoria’s speed would be useless to her. He headed north, to the commercial fisheries in Crescent City to start, and would comb the area. Alice stayed behind to take her first guard shift.

They would need to keep up appearances. Victoria must have been nearby, maybe tapping the phone lines, maybe watching her through the windows. 

Maybe she’d break up with Edward. Just to spice the situation up a bit. Give Victoria the soap opera she was looking for.

Distantly, she remembered the night before — they were on the tenth floor, and it wasn’t like she was  _ planning _ on having an affair, so Bella never worried about finding curtains. She wondered if Victoria watched them. That sent an uncomfortable thrill up her spine. 

It was strange, to be having so many feelings that felt forbidden in the past, discovering ignored pieces of herself. Nothing felt off limits anymore. There were no broken men to appease, just her, and Alice, alone in the apartment. 

They didn’t talk much, beyond the usual. How much have you had to eat, have you drunk water yet, do you want to watch a movie or something, aren’t you bored. They danced around the topic of last night, and barely looked at each other, stealing glances from the corner of their eyes. Bella wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, or drag her into the bedroom, just to get it over with.

In the end, her stomach decided for them that it was time to make pancakes. The ebb and flow between them eased some tension from her shoulders. They assembly-lined the procedure, Alice beating the mixture together while Bella cooked it over the stove. Bella's wounded edge smoothed out as they traded suggestions. Alice even laughed at one of her jokes. It felt nearly normal. She liked the easy friendship they had.

Even so, Bella did stare, a few times. How could she resist? The first time was in admiration of Alice’s deft one-handed egg crack. Bella whistled at that, and Alice curtsied. The second was in curiosity — Alice kept her rings on, but she supposed it was very mortal of her to assume that Alice would make a mess, a fundamentally false assertion that she would make mistakes so obvious.

Then, she stared at her nimble fingers, flitting between whisk and spoon. She memorized the delicate, graceful little pauses when Alice was reaching for something with the other hand. Lyrical motions, bird song in flesh, powdery sugar falling off the skin of her palm. Her fragile wrists, bones under near translucent skin, the crook of her elbow. 

“Bella.”

Her voice was so melodic. How was it fair? How could everything about her be dance and song? 

“Bella, the pancakes are burning.”

Bella smelled the charred, burning slab before she saw it. “Shit,” she said, coughing violently, as she reached up to turn on the overhead fan. The whole room was hazy grey with smoke. “Sorry.”

The fire alarm didn’t go off. Alice dismantled it in seconds, before it detected the mistake. Bella saw the pleased, unconscious smirk on her face, and memorized it too.

Alice plated the four surviving pancakes on a new dish, with a pat of butter and too much syrup. She set the plate down in front of Bella, and pulled out the barstool on Bella’s right, taking a seat. She had to jump a little to get seated.

Bella took a few tentative bites. The pancakes were fluffy, sweet, golden and perfect, because of course they were. Alice and Esme had their cooking phase together. The syrup wasn’t anything more than sugar with food coloring, but she didn’t fault Emmett for not remembering how awful bad syrup could be. 

Alice watched her eat. “Any good?”

“It’s delicious,” she said after swallowing. 

Alice’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Your food isn’t very exciting, is it?”

That earned her a smile. “Are you kidding? It just must not compare to hunting at all.”

“Not even a little bit.”

Bella tried, with great difficulty, to forget the night before. She wanted it to be as easy as this — just the two of them, no hunters involved, no threat of death or suicide. She wanted to have movie nights like before, when Alice held her against her chest, and cradled her between jump scares. She wanted shopping trips, where Alice imagined her as more beautiful than she was. She wanted Alice to want her as badly. 

There would be no point to an empty charade of their friendship, not after the taste of what she could have had. 

Bella decided, once again, to ruin it.

“You left your shirt here.”

Alice turned to the side, looking for the rumpled web of clothes that Bella left on the floor.

“I did.”

Bella busied herself with eating, cutting away the bits without syrup. The analog clock on the wall ticked away. 

Alice fidgeted, bouncing her leg, spinning her rings on her fingers. 

Bella set her fork down. “I need to call Edward.”

Silence. It seemed neither of them wanted to face that uncomfortable truth.

“You should call him on the landline.” 

It would make the most of a bad situation. If Victoria tapped the call, she would be convinced she was no longer under the Cullen’s protection. If not, at least she wouldn't have to see the record on her own call log.

Alice slid off of the barstool, landing on the balls of her feet. In a blink, she placed the home phone in front of Bella, and collected the apartment keys. Bella looked up at her. For the first time that day, Alice allowed her eye contact, and she saw the deep sadness behind her gaze. 

Her lips were parted and beautiful.

“I’ll give you some space,” Alice said, already turning toward the door. “I’m not going far, just to the corner store. I’ll be back soon.”

A second later and the room was empty and silent.

Bella looked at the backlit numbers on the phone. Mindlessly, she went through the motions of dialing Edward’s number — her thumb froze over the dial button. She felt the nerves in her vibrate, screaming, shaking. Cold sweat dampened her palms. 

She stood up, paced to the living room windows and to the kitchen, then back again, three times over. She hadn’t rehearsed. Should she rehearse?

_ Edward — I don’t love you anymore. _

_ Edward — I don’t understand you, and you don’t understand me.  _

_ Edward — I want to fuck your sister so bad it might kill me. _

A deep breath escaped her lungs. She frowned. None of those worked, especially not the last, which was the real reason for the call. If she kept pacing around like this, she would wear holes in the floor.

Impulsively, not letting her mind talk her out of it, her thumb pressed the dial button.

Anxiety shot like a lightning strike from her fingers to her chest. Time crawled punishingly slow, the entire universe condensed into the seconds between the button press and the first ring — 

Of course, Edward was punctual, and hated to keep her waiting. 

He picked up the phone. On the other end, she thought she could hear his breathing.

_ “Bella?” _

Bella swallowed the thickness in her mouth. “Hey, Edward.”

She knew neither of them could stand small talk and braced for impact.

He breathed heavily into the receiver, as if he was recovering from a run.  _ “Did you  _ sleep _ with her?” _

Bella squeezed her eyes shut tight. She felt pain for this bizarre, hauntingly beautiful boy, alien to the human men around him, yet different enough for her. She tried to conjure up the image of his face, his almond-shaped eyes, his pouty lips that drove his admirers to frenzy. His bronze hair, the envy of every boy in Forks. His long, agile, pianist fingers.

She examined the stoic, slouching boy in her mind, and felt nothing at all.

“No, I didn’t.”

Silence. She could almost see him struggling to speak, choked in disbelief. The hope rising in his chest, that this was all a mistake they could put behind them, that she would run back to Forks and throw herself at his feet. Or that she would forget he and his family ever existed, and settle down with a human man, have a dog, a pair of twins, so he could be left to suffer like a penitent for the rest of time, like his broken heart craved.

Bella couldn’t give him that. “Edward — I don’t want to hurt you.”

His eyes would be wide. Or maybe set in grief.

“We’re not good for each other.”

He scoffed, a barking sound.  _ “You only just realized?” _

An ugly pause.

He didn’t hang up, not at first. He let the static on the line tell her he was waiting for more, that it wasn’t enough to tell him she didn’t want him anymore, unless there was a reason. 

She let him figure out why on his own. He did — and then he hung up.

The line rang dead. A blanket of flat nothing shrouded her. Gingerly, she slid the phone back in its stand, and set herself carefully into the armchair. And she cried into her hands.

Her tears were lukewarm, dejected things, falling onto her shirt, leaving wet patches on the cotton of her sleeves. She lacked the energy to sob. She cried for him, though, for failing to be the girl that wanted him back, truly. Her heart was used to such wounds, but not his. 

Alone, in the apartment, the stillness of the air tormented her.

She felt a little ashamed at how high her heart leaped, when Alice unlocked the door and stepped into her apartment with a concerned look, carrying a pint of ice cream in one hand. Then, she laughed out the rest of her tears, bittersweet joy singing in her chest, at the way Alice ran to her and hugged her tightly.

She breathed in her smell, the sharp gunmetal edge around the scent of her perfume, and laughed at the shiver that ran through her. 

“Bella, are you okay?” Alice sounded so confused. That gave Bella another fit of laughter. “You’re acting hysterical, what happened?”

“Nothing,” she said, smiling into her hair. “You’re still here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out the title cards in earlier chapters! I'm a fool and only just figured out how to add them. (edit x3: mobile formatting is fighting me, idk what to do about it) Once again, credit to @victormancini on tumblr.


	4. ingenue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sick of editing this lol, here it is, *unrolls scroll* the one where they fuck *rolls scroll back up*

Her body was the product of decades as a sedentary recluse. Now that it was being forced to change, it protested, her joints squealing, her muscles cramping.

Bella opened her mouth to ask to turn the thermostat down.

“Literally don’t even talk to me unless you’re doing bicep curls,” Emmett cut her off. He laid his tremendous body over the couch, knees over the armrest, dwarfing it. He stared intently at the TV he had mounted. Football season.

Bella was sweating hard — the ten-pound dumbbells, coated in bright red plastic like the kind used by middle-aged women in a pilates class, were still too heavy for her. She clenched her abs, squeezed her arms as tightly as she could, and eked out another rep.

“Go, Bella!” He cheered. “Pretty soon you’re gonna be busting those out like they’re nothing, you’ll see.”

All the breath left her as if she had been punched in the gut. The dumbbell thudded onto the rug in the living room. She sat down and wiped her sweat from her brow with a towel. “I think I want to stop for the day,” she panted.

“Sounds good. Get ready, ‘cause next week we’re doubling that weight, sis.”

Days with Emmett usually went like this — he woke her like a drill sergeant at the break of dawn. They went for a half-hour jog, and then he fed her a half-dozen unsalted eggs, a disgusting compromise on animal proteins. Then, he took her to the apartment’s expensive gym, where he rattled off an exercise routine that regularly left her weak in the knees, too exhausted to walk. Sometimes, they would hike, if the workload for her classes was low. At night, she ate like a wolf — if she was lucky, Emmett _wouldn't_ cook for her. She closed the night with a drink. If it was the night before a hunting trip, he joined her. 

It was hard, often unpleasant work, but she saw little changes in her body soon after. The way the muscle of her shoulder looked thicker, the line of her abdomen more defined, her legs stronger looking, with a small bump running down her thigh, like a trained runner might have. She had more energy lately, too. Slept better. Laughed louder. Smiled brighter. It felt fun. She was happy. 

But the truth was this — the t-shirts were collected for the next day, where he took her scent to mark gas stations, motels, and rest stops between the town and the fisheries. And they knew, the stronger she was in her waking life, the stronger a vampire she would make. Emmett himself knew this first-hand. They were shaping her now, while it was still possible. They didn’t need a liability in battle.

The benefits to her psyche were coincidental. Still, she felt grateful for them.

Days with him were clownish whirlwinds, rampaging across town, getting lost in the woods, staying up late watching stand-up sets that made them howl so hard the downstairs neighbors filed a noise complaint. Emmett sanded down the rough edges of her break up, steadied her. Every day with him, she worried less and less that the Cullens would disappear from her life, leaving her a shattered husk like before. Emmett was an anchor. He reminded her to breathe.

Alice's days were gentler. Calmer, rarely as eventful. Nevertheless, the tension between them, rising and falling as surely as the tide, made them just as difficult.

They tried playing board games — Alice won them all. They tried watching movies, but Alice couldn’t help spoiling the endings, especially when mischaracterizations and plot incongruities were involved. They tried baking, but there were only so many cookies Bella could eat before falling sick.

Alice took her to a mall, once, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the design flaws in every shirt, blouse, jacket. That had been a successful trip — Alice entertained herself by critiquing, and Bella took home a pair of jeans that Alice promptly tore to pieces.

“It’s called ‘distressing,’” Alice had said, “and they look better this way. Trust me.”

Alice decided it would be her mission to dress her. They compromised on stylistic choices. Bella surrendered her dad’s flannels and her mom’s bowling shirts in exchange for the messy, stylish, tomboy looks Alice put her in. When her closet grew full to bursting, Bella put her foot down — no more clothes. Bright-eyed freshmen asked her if she had a stylist. She didn’t mind the attention anymore. Her admirers were sweet, inviting her to coffee and study sessions, and her few detractors simply stayed away from her. Easier than high school. She even made friends. 

“Who’s that girl that hangs out with you sometimes?” asked a bottle-blonde sophomore, Casey, who reminded her so much of Jessica. “Are you guys dating?”

Bella bit her lip and pretended to be fascinated by the blackened gum on the pavement. “No, we’re just…”

The girl smiled and then _winked_ at her. “That’s good. Text me, we should get coffee together.”

Bella stopped breathing, then took the sharp turn for her biology lab. She didn’t mind the attention, but that hadn't made it easier to deal with.

Her classes were uneventful, mostly uninteresting, the introductory lectures serving more as refresher courses rather than new information. Another thing to be thankful for. Most of the day, she let her mind wander, thinking about the sweetness of Alice’s voice, her knowing smirk, the shape of her body under her clothes. If her lecturers could read minds, they would kick her out of the room.

Days with Alice were tests of willpower. The flat was spacious, but not enough to avoid traces of her, or their clothes brushing together. Even the breeze as she walked past felt like a solid presence. Bella timed her breaths, training herself to catch her sharp smell when they were near.

She was going insane.

They revived their old hobby of watching horror movies, though they sat a respectable distance away from each other, instead of on top of one another like they did a lifetime ago. Bella stole touches, here and there. The backs of their hands. Their knees. Sometimes, when a jump scare sent Bella’s heart racing, Alice would lace their fingers together.

Night after night, the space between them grew smaller and smaller still, like two magnets drawn together. 

Tonight, flouting the unspoken treaty line between them, Alice slung her leg over Bella’s lap. She froze. _Unfair._ Phantom touches — fingers ghosting over her ribs, hips grinding, their lips, together — snaked over her skin, reminders of what happened. Alice didn’t move from against the armrest. Bella fought to control her breathing. She needed to retaliate somehow. The movie — B-rated, something about a dark ritual, there was a witch involved — droned in the background.

Feigning composure, Bella gently put her hand on Alice’s calf, not taking her eyes off of the screen. She slid her hand over the muscle. She wanted to seem natural, like they had done this before, like there wasn’t a charge in between them like the air before a thunderstorm. It felt like she was vibrating out of her skin. Her hand lingered when it reached the back of her knee, where she would kiss her, she thought, before trailing up, higher and higher.

Alice went stiff.

A few painful minutes passed. A woman was brutally gutted by cultists, her entrails offered to a goat-headed demon. The scene cut to an old woman in a tent, holding a man’s hand — she pointed to a line in his palm and told him he was destined to die young. The next scene showed him in a car crash, metal crumpling, folding him into wet red origami.

Alice scoffed. “That’s not how that works,” she said, in disbelief. 

“Yeah, I thought it was too much.”

“I meant the palm-reader. She got the line completely wrong.”

Bella bit back a smile. “I don’t know, Alice, she looks like a professional.”

“She’s not.”

“How would you know?”

Alice turned to face her with a satisfied, self-aware smirk, raising a single eyebrow. “I ran with a circus for a few years.”

Bella doubled over to stop herself from spitting up her drink. A freakshow circus act — little Alice wrapped in purple bed sheets, chanting nonsense in a striped big-top tent, men with big handlebar mustaches and women in hoop skirts quaking in fear. Maybe not period accurate, but the image was just _too good._

Alice laughed too, chime-like. “I’m being serious!”

She almost snorted soda from her nose. “Oh, yeah? You read crystal balls, too?”

“ _And_ tarot. I was a contortionist, a trapeze artist — stop laughing, Bella!" she whined. "They ended up keeping me around for fortune-telling and palm-reading.”

“I bet you were good.”

“The best,” she said, holding out her right hand.

Bella grudgingly extended her left, which Alice pulled between her own. Her hands were so much smaller, Bella noticed, fascinated by the clashing of her warm blood over a cold hand, the length of her fingers. Her thin banded rings, a spinning silver one, and a gold statement piece, nestled on her middle finger, arcing over her knuckle. 

Distantly, Bella realized her wedding band was gone. Something green and ugly inside her reared up in pride — _hah._

Alice smoothed down her palm, laying it flat against her right, and peered at it carefully.

She ran the pad of her thumb over a long line that ended at the border of her palm. It was the same as the line on the man's hand, though his was pronounced, and didn't end between his fingers like hers did.

“This is your heart line,” she said, tracing it lightly. “It deals in matters of love, not death.”

The touch felt like a butterfly passing over her skin. 

“What’s it say,” Bella asked, more statement than question.

Alice laughed softly. “You fall in love very easily.” She followed the rest of the lines on her palm, down the center, to the start of her wrist. Her pulse betrayed her, set to racing. 

Corny line. It didn't deserve a reaction. 

Her traitorous body had one anyway. “I could have told you that one."

“Not groundbreaking enough?”

Bella called her bluff. “I think you can do better.”

Alice paused. She seemed to consider it a challenge.

She bowed her head, and bringing Bella’s hand up, kissed her palm. Her lips touched the lines she traced, leaving the cold ghost of her mouth behind. It wiped the gentle touches from her memory. Strands of her hair brushed by Bella's fingers.

Bella clenched the fabric of Alice’s pant leg between her fingers. How cruel. It was a stupid game, torturing her, making desire rake its blooded claws down her chest. 

“Why are you doing this to me?" _Put your teeth in me. Take me, take me, take me._

“You started it." Her breath ghosted over her burning skin. 

Alice pressed her nose against Bella’s wrist, and inhaled, ragged. She grazed her lips over her racing pulse. If she squeezed her hand any harder, Bella’s hand would splinter to pieces. Slowly, her lips furled back in a snarl, baring her teeth, glossy with venom. Her hands were shaking with restraint.

What a stupid question to ask her. Like asking the grass why it grows, or a tiger why it prowls. Bella wanted to push her pulse into her mouth, like what nature designed them for, see a final part of herself pour into her, fill her insides. See herself flood the blacks of her eyes, her last parting gift.

Bella could see that her hunger was tied down by fraying string. Her pupils consumed her irises, reflecting the cold blue light of the movie like a mirror. It didn't make her afraid. It felt like it followed the order of things.

Instead of biting down, ripping tendons, crushing bone, Alice folded Bella’s hand into a fist. She held it, rested her forehead against it. Then, she kissed her knuckles, one by one.

“I can’t,” Alice choked out, smiling. "I can't be here right now.”

“Yeah,” Bella said coolly. “Are you okay?”

Alice growled. “No, absolutely not.” 

Bella extricated herself from their position together, watching Alice dig her nails into the couch. The cushions ripped slowly. She could hear Alice grinding her teeth.

She plodded blindly in the dark for her phone. “Should I call Emmett?” she asked, already pulling his contact up.

“Yes. Tell him I need him to cover me for a day.”

Bella dialed the number. Emmett picked up in seconds.

_“Hey, B!”_

“Hey, Em,” she said, hoping he didn’t detect the raw edge in her voice. “Alice needs you to take over for her.”

A beat, then, _“Got it. I’ll be there in a flash. Get her some fresh air.”_ The line went silent then.

Bella set the phone down on the kitchen counter, tapped anxiously with her fingers, ran her hands through her hair. 

“Don’t do that,” Alice warned. “Please.”

“Sorry.”

There was nothing to do but count the seconds as they passed. Bella watched Alice, taut as a cable, ready to snap. She looked so different than the Alice she saw in her memories — fairylike, or maybe like a ballerina, all graceful, flowing, weightless motion. Not like the coiled serpent in front of her, venom dripping from her fangs. 

Alice’s jaw was set. “I thought I could handle it,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t have to worry about making me uncomfortable. Nervous, yes. But never uncomfortable.” 

Alice took deep, calming breaths, shoulders falling, loosening her grip on the cushions. “I’d really like to find some way to make it work. Make us work.”

Bella knew they would — if only because her dogged determination meant she was willing to try anything. “We will.”

“Do you think, in a few days — only if you feel ready — if you’re, if we’re both okay…”

Dreaming it, letting herself be consumed by it, and putting it into motion felt like entirely different things. She wondered how it would work. If it could work. She wanted very badly to try. “Y— Yeah, sure. Yes.”

A few moments later, Alice stood up abruptly.

“Emmett just pulled into the parking lot,” she said, calmly pocketing the keys and slipping one of Bella’s bomber jackets around her. 

Sure enough, Emmett tapped out his shave-and-a-haircut rhythm before barging in, disheveled. “Got you covered, Al. Herd coming south, you'll catch them if you head north a few miles.”

When Bella turned back, the living room was empty.

Emmett stood unnaturally in the doorway, hands clasped in front of him, pouting his lips in curiosity. “So…? Do you, like, need pointers or something…?"

She shut the bathroom door in his face and washed away her sweat.

The next day, she let Emmett run her ragged, doubling her run time. She felt the blood in her legs pounding afterwards. It was futile to try to take her mind off of the night before. She went through the day mechanically, half-present, half-not, thinking about something else. A few days to prepare was all she had — one, more accurately, because the next day belonged to Emmett, too, and he used it up in its entirety. He left before she woke, on Friday morning. 

Friday was hers. She had the entire day to work with, though she was obligated to go out, to taunt Victoria with the cracks in their armor. That took a few hours out of her preparation time. 

She mulled it over a cup of coffee, bouncing her leg violently enough to spill some on the countertop. 

The appropriate etiquette escaped her. Edward ‘courted’ her in an old-fashioned and wooden way that, in hindsight, seemed cartoonishly unnatural. Alice would laugh her out of the room if she tried anything similar. Bella wished she had more experience. 

What does one buy to have sex with a vampire? Candles? Flowers? Should she _shave?_ What if she accidentally cut herself? Was there music involved? 

Planning for it was decidedly the least sexy part. In the end, paralyzed by indecision, she spent hours in a bath. At least she had the wherewithal to wash her hair. After, she passed by a liquor store to buy the most expensive bottle of wine in town. It was a whopping twenty dollars.

The few remaining hours were spent cycling through possible outfits. Jeans, a flannel, and her Vans — too ‘Forks’ for her now. A tight fitting, translucent grey sweater over a tank top — too similar to what she wore a few nights ago. A sweatshirt — too informal. A blazer — did this count as a black tie event? She settled on something in between, clean black jeans with rolled cuffs, a pair of oxfords, a simple white tank top. She hoped that covered enough bases so she would only be found a little lacking in any of them.

After a dozen excruciating hours in anticipation, she heard Alice’s gentle knock on the front door.

"Come in," Bella said, wrestling her heartbeat back to normal. She rounded the corner — she had been fumbling with the thermostat, setting it a few degrees warmer — and choked.

Alice hung Bella’s heavy bomber jacket on the coat rack next to the door. The dress she wore was surely of her own design — dark, near translucent, with the intricate beading down the front glittering black. It hugged her shoulders, but fanned out at her waist, the skirt pleated deliberately. Her familiar spikes had been tamed down to soft tousled curls. There was a bow around them as adornment. Like a present. Like she wanted Bella to know the gift she was receiving.

Heat spilled down her face to her neck. Bella tried to cough out the spit that went down her windpipe.

Alice hurried to her side, already holding a glass of water. “Bella! Bella, are you okay?” 

After a gulp, she caught her breath. “Yeah — Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, clearing her throat. “Did you — did you get taller…?”

Alice stared at her like a deer in headlights. She blinked twice, before gesturing to her feet. Tall black platforms.

Bella nodded, already filing her slip-up away to think about five years from now. “They look — You — You look good,” she stammered. "The dress — really great. Good job."

“Thanks,” Alice murmured, still wide-eyed. 

She looked around for any windows she could throw herself out of. "Uh, I brought wine. Best I could find.”

“That was sweet of you.” 

Bella walked into the kitchen, hiding her flushed face, stamping down her grimace. Her lines had been prepped — in the event Alice was too beautiful to look at, she would have coolly offered wine, apologetic about the quality, and then drink until she could stare freely without shame. Now she could barely remember her own name.

She withdrew the bottle of wine from the fridge and placed it on the counter between them. Alice seemed to be studying the label like a textbook, eyes glued to the print. Avoiding her.

Bella busied herself polishing glasses with a clean rag. She didn't want to look at her either. Or, more accurately, looking at her meant losing what little composure she had left. But not looking meant the image in her mind would deteriorate — already, she was losing the line of her collarbones, her pale neck. The shape of her cheekbones, high on her face, framed by dark strands of hair. Her honey-gold eyes.

She compromised with herself. Instead of looking, she stole glances, never resting her eyes fully. As if she was the sun.

Bella shook the thoughts from her head and poured. First for Alice, then for herself. She watched as Alice swirled hers, examining the way the liquid clung to the glass, smelling it.

"I don’t think this is going to impress you," Bella said, just taking a sip into her mouth. Another mistake — accusing her of being too good for something. She wished she could stop talking.

A muted hum in response. Alice took her own taste. She held the stem of the glass pinched between two fingers. The wine stained her lips a muted purple.

“Not awful,” she said, finally, after letting it rest on her tongue. “You know, I was just thinking — Did… Did you happen to get a package recently? Maybe within the past day?” 

Bella blinked dumbly. “Uh, no, why? Should I have?”

Alice laughed nervously, scratching the nape of her neck, tugging the curls there. “Yeah, I could have sworn it was going to be here. Early birthday present.” Setting the glass down, she tapped anxiously on the counter, her words coming in a torrent. “I was going to run to get it, but it would have taken longer than driving, and I needed to hunt, but the game were heading in a different direction, and I was hoping it would just _be_ here when I came back because I had paid for express —”

Bella stilled her restless fingers, covering them with the palm of her hand. 

“You didn’t need to get me anything.” She kept her voice quiet, as if she was trying to avoid frightening her. 

Alice exhaled. “Sorry. I got nervous.”

It was Bella’s turn to laugh. “I’m nervous, too.”

Carefully, she threaded their fingers together, welcoming the feeling of ice against her burning skin. Her skin was flushed, ruddy, lightly tanned from the sun, where Alice was chalk pale, unblemished, flat. There were no creases over her porcelain knuckles, no scars, no wrinkles. Not even the pattern of skin. Frighteningly beautiful. She wondered what Alice thought of their differences, the irregularity of her human flesh in comparison with the smoothness of her own.

Alice was staring at her, lips parted, as if she was etching the lines of her skin to memory. She watched her small shoulders rise and fall to her rhythmic, focused breaths. The muted orange glow of the kitchen lamps shone over her hair like tendrils of golden light. She didn’t pull her hand away in revulsion, like she had a right to. She just looked at them, their mismatched pallors, the blue of her veins. 

Bella channeled her bravery. “Come to my room.”

When Alice looked up at her and smiled fondly, her heart fell off beat, thundering in her eardrums. “Of course,” she said, sliding out of her chair.

What if it was too hot? Did vampires get uncomfortable? Should she turn the thermostat back down, just in case? Or should she turn it higher, to compensate for Alice’s lack of body heat? Were her sheets clean enough?

Bella breathed in a long drag of air, trying to still herself. 

Beside her, at the threshold of her bedroom, Alice touched her arm. “It’s okay if you’re uncomfortable. We can do something else, if you want. I won’t mind.”

Her back thudded against the doorframe. Alice mirrored her, resting on her side. Of course she wanted her — how could she not? She warred with herself about it, overwhelmed by even the sight of her, yet hurting with its absence. Panic at her touch, panic at the _lack_ of her touch. She wasn’t sure she could explain this. Even in her mind, she was just sputtering nonsense, contradicting herself with every other word. 

The small frame forced them to rest their legs together, one in between the other. Compulsively, she ran her hand through her hair. It was hard to focus, with Alice’s dress glittering in the orange lamplight of the bedroom, with her face falling half in shadow, half in light, her round eyes gleaming like a cat's in the dark. Her thoughts came in a sudden start-stop rhythm, stuttering whenever she tried to say, _I want this, please, spare me from begging?_

“I just want something to go right for once," she managed. She instinctively bowed her head closer, even though Alice could have heard a needle drop in the other room. “I can’t stop thinking about — I know it’ll take work… and that maybe it just _won’t_ work at all, but I haven’t… I’m afraid of messing this up, because — ”

Sputtering nonsense. _Okay. Try again._

“I want this.” She hoped the weight of it would carry the message across. “I haven’t thought about anything else. You’re —”

Alice pulled her face in, and kissed her.

_— the only thing I think about._

Bella leaned back with her against the doorframe, Alice in her arms. Her lips felt like cold marble. It was quiet enough that she could hear the sounds of their mouths moving together, Alice’s soft breathing, the beads of her dress clicking. She corded her fingers in Bella's long hair, scratching at her scalp, sending a bolt of lightning down her spine. Slowly, after her mind caught up to her body, she rested her hands on the small of Alice’s back.

Alice swiped her tongue over Bella's bottom lip, and opened her. Her mouth tasted like the copper tang of blood, the biting alcohol from the wine, and something else, maybe the venom pooling, gathering in hunger. Metallic, solid, completely opposite to what Bella anticipated. She had imagined something entirely different, maybe a heady sweetness, like honey and wine. Now she realized that she had ignored what made Alice a born predator. She had killed with the mouth Bella kissed now, the mouth she was tasting. She was making something heavy and molten swell in the pit of her. 

They parted for a moment. "Bella, you can’t mess this up, I promise.” Alice’s voice sounded certain.

She stared into the muted gold of her eyes, saw something intimate, small. “You don’t care that I’m still human?”

“Do you care that I’m not?” There was worry in her voice. Fragility.

“No, never,” Bella answered immediately. “It’s actually part of the appeal.”

Alice laughed, her breath feather-like over Bella’s mouth. She kissed her again. Bella breathed in, catching her perfume. It smelled different than before, better to mask the razor edge of her smell, sweet as caramel. She had chosen it with purpose. She must have known Bella would like it. 

Desire possessed her. She reached behind and slid a hand under Alice’s dress, feeling the hard marble of her thighs, and then moved up. Alice hadn’t worn underwear. She made a sharp noise of alarm into Bella’s mouth.

Joy and ardor bubbled in her chest, bright as champagne. She grinned into their kiss, pushed her backwards, toward the large bed in the middle of the bedroom. When their knees hit the mattress, Alice pulled her down, wrapping her legs around Bella’s hips. The soft grey covers cocooned them.

Her hunger burned bullet holes in her. If she looked down, Alice would be bare against her, the pale smoothness of her legs leading up, to where she would be ready and waiting. She couldn’t open her eyes. The hunger would take her. It was taking her now, licking at her fingers, lapping between her legs.

Bella had always liked how small Alice was. Even at her own unremarkable stature, she was tall enough to cover her body completely. She propped her weight on her elbows, on either side of Alice's head, still needing to angle down to meet her lips. Alice rolled her hips up. Her nails dragged down Bella’s neck, over her shoulders, knife-like sharpness tugging at the straps of her top. 

Bella’s whimper fell out of her. 

She never made that noise before in her life. It made her self aware for a moment — she didn’t know how vocal to be, how to approach the insurmountable task of taking Alice’s dress off, how to even begin to take her own clothes off without looking like a fool. She fisted the covers, channeling her frustration into her hands. 

Alice stopped — too observant. Attuned to her in that moment. “Bella?” Her cool hand came to rest on her cheek. She must have been burning.

“I’m just — it’s nothing.” Grudgingly, the words trickled out of her mouth. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Alice said absentmindedly. “Me neither.”

Bella blinked.

Alice tapped a beatless rhythm on her bicep.

“I thought — you know —”

“Not with women, no,” she said, eyes glassy and unfocused. “To be honest, I’m in the middle of working it out right now.”

Bella waited. Idly, she kicked off her shoes. As the seconds ticked by, she reached back to slip Alice’s platforms off of her feet. She kept waiting. For a minute, and then two.

Beneath her, Alice squirmed, little noises catching in her throat, pupils dilated. “There’s some problems — but I think we figure them out.” A cold wetness seeped through her pant leg where her thigh met Alice’s center. "I'm not — I can't — It's a little hard to focus right now," she said, voice strangled.

Bella tried to ignore how her body answered in response. “Oh.”

“Mm, I think I get to be on top,” Alice said.

 _Oh._

Without preamble, Alice tightened her legs around her waist, and rolled them over easily. She seated herself into Bella’s lap, like when they first kissed, finding the same places on her body to settle her weight on. 

“It must have been like this,” Alice said to herself.

“What must have?”

Alice smiled enigmatically, and leaned down, pressing their lips together.

She let Alice come upon her, falling back onto the pillows. Kissing her felt easy, as she moved back into a natural rhythm with her, trading initiative. Bella licked into her mouth, savoring her. Alice tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, dragging her sharp canines, teasing at breaking skin. 

Picking up where she left off felt like second nature. She slid a hand up Alice's hard thigh, thumbing past the crease of her hips, further, up, up, up. Alice inhaled sharply through her nose. Bella brought her other hand up, dragging the skirt of the dress with it. A cold hand trailed up her top in response, lingering on the flat muscle of her abdomen. She distantly remembered that she had worn a bra this time, a strappy black number, good for ripping.

Realizing this, Alice grinned fiendishly against her mouth, reached forth with her fingers, and tore. A long, loud rip destroyed the silence of the room. While she was at it, Alice decided it was a good idea to get a head start on Bella’s clothes, and shredded her white top apart, too. The bed was littered with the scraps of everything Bella had above her belt.

“Did you have fun with that?” Bella asked, holding back her own smile and failing.

Her laugh came joyful, melodic. “I did! You thought of everything,” she said, dipping forward to plant a kiss squarely on her lips.

“I really didn’t,” Bella said after, running her hands over the tight waist of the black dress. “Does this come with a zipper?”

Alice pouted. “No, I didn’t have the time to add one.” Her voice dropped low, dripped like honey. “You can take the bow off of me, if you want, though.”

Maybe the torrent between her legs was a little embarrassing, but at this point, she was too far gone to care.

Alice sat back, and, painfully slow, grabbed the edges of the bunched up skirt, dragging the dress over her head. Bella watched the sinuous muscle running underneath her skin, the dancer grace of her drawing the motion out, lingering over her chest. She couldn’t take it.

Instinctively, knowing it was something she herself fantasized about, she sat up, and ran her tongue over the peak of her breast. Her skin was _freezing._ Even so, the way Alice’s head fell back, the way she _groaned,_ and the way her chest arched into her mouth made it worth it. 

She decided that Alice belonged there. In her bed, sitting naked in her lap, pushing her chest into her mouth, moaning softly, where else could she be? Bella kissed up her skin, to the pale column of her throat, licked against where her pulse would have been, the way Alice did days ago. Bit her hard — _I'd take you like this if I could. If I were you, and you were me_. The lights shone a halo on Alice’s curls. She wanted to stop them here, forever.

The bow shimmered in the pale yellow light. It was black, pressed flat against the deep chocolate brown of Alice's hair. Bella pinched it and pulled. The ribbon came undone. It fell into her hand, tangled up between her fingers. Against Alice's ghostly skin, it looked like a living thing, dark, rich, opulent. A flicker of recognition — she wanted, badly, to keep it.

"I want this," she said, mouthing over Alice's silent pulse.

"All yours," Alice sighed. 

It snaked between her fingers as she toyed with it, lacing her hand into Alice's hair, then down her neck. She moved her lips to the hollow of her jaw, kissing her below the ear. Alice craned her neck to the side to give her more to touch. Her breath stuttered. It made her body shake in Bella’s arms.

She would need to find a place to keep the ribbon protected. Or maybe she would wear it — on her wrist, or tying up her hair. Would people wonder who gave it to her? Or not notice at all, that she was carrying this old-fashioned favor, a mark of attachment. 

She leaned over to the nightstand and placed it there, carefully folded, watching it curl into itself. 

There was the sound of shifting, and then a hand between her legs — Alice was unbuckling her belt, then the button of her pants. Then she ducked down and bit the zipper between her teeth. The sight of her, the tip of her nose pressing into her underwear, nostrils flared as she took in the scent of arousal, made Bella thrum like a harp string.

It only served to encourage her. Effortlessly, she lifted Bella up and pulled her pants and underwear down in a single fluid motion. The warm air brushed her legs, clashing with the coldness of her hands, passing over the muscle of her thighs. Alice pressed an icy kiss to her ankle, then her knee, then to where her nose had been pressed before, brushing the patch of hair.

"Is this okay?" she asked, and the breath from her mouth passed by the dampness between her legs.

Bella nodded. She couldn't trust her voice not to break. Her body tensed, coiled like a spring.

In a trance, she watched as Alice, looking straight at her through half-lidded eyes, dipped two fingers into her mouth. They were slick, shiny as her tongue slipped through them, glistening. Bella swallowed dryly. She was absolutely sure Alice didn’t need the help. 

“May I?”

Hot blood flooded her cheeks, her neck, chest, the skin beneath Alice’s touch. “Please,” she begged.

The tips of her fingers ringed her entrance. Slowly, she pressed in. She understood the complications once her first finger breached halfway.

Bella took Alice to the knuckle before the searing cold inside her became unbearable.

A strangled cry tumbled out of her mouth. "Stop! S-stop, stop," she yelled, mostly by accident. In an instant, Alice pulled out, and she was left empty. She grimaced in pain. “Ah…”

Alice’s eyes were wide in shock.“Oh my god, Bella, I’m —”

“Wait, I’m not hurt, I promise,” she said, though she was perfectly aware that her expression suggested differently. “It’s just —”

“— Bella, I’m so sorry,” Alice said, in alarm.

“No, don’t be, I promise you didn’t hurt me, don’t freak out,” Bella cut her off, before she could say anything. Some part of her was watching and hysterical. “Stay — stay there, don’t move, hang on,” she said, as an idea popped into her head fully formed.

She took advantage of Alice’s momentary paralysis to run to the bathroom door — she turned the heat down on the way — and shut the door behind her. Maybe it was a stupid idea, but if she thought about it too long, she wouldn’t do it, and then there would be no way to salvage the night she had dreamed about for weeks. Months, even.

The shower was probably the most outrageously decadent feature of her apartment. She yanked the glass door to it open, closed it behind her, and stared at the glass console that controlled the water. She had never changed the settings after the first time. She tapped out the commands for ice cold, full blast, and slammed the start button before she could think any longer on it.

Frigid water rained down over her. Every inch of her skin jumped in response, taking the breath out of her like she had been punched by a prize fighter. In unison, her muscles all clenched. She hissed. Her heart fought to keep her body temperature, thundering, though she tried to relax. She replayed the night like a movie — Alice with her fingers in her, the arching of her back when she took her nipple into her mouth, tasting blood on her lips, the ribbon. _Holy shit, it’s not working. Jesus Christ, come on._ She willed herself to stay in the shower, dropping her body temperature low enough to make it work, and kept cycling through images in her mind.

Outside, Alice knocked furiously on the bathroom door. “Bella? Bella, _what in the hell_ are you doing? I’m coming in,” she said, the door clicking open.

She wondered what she must have looked like, shaking violently under a stream of ice water, fingernails digging so deeply into her hand she must have drawn blood. It must have been bad. Alice jumped in right behind her. After she tapped in her own commands, the shower slowly warmed to body-temperature. Warm steam collected on the glass.

Naked and furious in front of her, Alice glared, water ruining the ringlets of her hair. “You might actually be the stupidest person I’ve ever met. And Emmett spent the better part of the seventies learning card tricks.”

The warmth soothed the tightness of her muscles. “T-thanks," she managed, grinning.

“People have written sermons about your kind of idiocy,” she lectured. “I’ve met actual light fixtures with a higher IQ.”

“Uh-huh.”

“This might win the prize for the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done to me. Actually, no, it is easily the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done to me.”

“Mm,” she answered, enjoying the blissful heat of the spray. She inched her body closer to Alice, pulling her in to share.

"Are you listening? I'm not done telling you how dumb you are.”

Reflexively, Bella pressed their bodies together and laughed. "Okay. I’m all ears. Go.”

Alice huffed. “Why did you even think this was a good idea?”

That made her blush hard. “I just… Since you’re kind of. Freezing…”

“Really, Bella?” Alice sighed in exasperation. “I love you, but that’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever said.” She smiled, like it was an inside joke between the two of them.

Little sparks, bright as fireflies, danced in her chest. 

“Thanks. Love you too.” 

“I’m sorry this didn’t work,” Alice said, resting her forehead on Bella’s sternum. “I was really sort of hoping… We should have talked this out more,” she settled. 

“I don’t know about you, but it was going pretty well for me.” Her voice betrayed how amused she was.

Alice scoffed. “I was worried about how long I could go without just bending you over.”

“I can pencil it into my schedule.”

“You’re funny.” 

Bella grinned into her hair. The water washed her perfume away, leaving behind the familiar gunmetal smell of her. With their chests pressed together, under the warmth of the water, Alice almost felt human in her arms. She could imagine her as a young girl, a bright-eyed ingenue, shooting off charming smirks, radiating magic. 

Living Alice would have taken drags from a cigarette in a holder, puffing out smoke rings from her painted lips. She would have worn a flapper dress, or a skirt that boldly bared her knees, and wide shiny bangles, perpetually on the verge of falling off her thin wrists. Arm in arm with a group of her twenty closest friends — she was a socialite at heart, rabid for attention — she would kick down doors, dance down the streets at night, a born reveler. Bella was in love with this vision. She wanted to go back in time, walk with their arms linked, steal kisses. She wondered if they would have been friends — then she remembered, of course they would be. They were easy together.

Alice had been watching her all the while, as she stared. She raised an eyebrow. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Mascara,” Bella answered without skipping a beat. “Let me get it.” She wanted the opportunity to touch her face, find the softness of her, if it existed.

Alice swatted her hand away. “No way, it’s waterproof…" Then she peeked at the warped reflection of the shiny chrome control panel, surely able to detect all the details of her face with her inhuman vision, and scowled at her. “Har-har. Very funny.”

“Mhm. Gotcha."

Alice pouted. “I’ll get you back.” 

“I know you will.” She was sure they could do this forever.

Bella kissed her then, water still pouring over them, enjoying the strange, hard warmth of her lips, like kissing a sculpture that had been left in the sun. She ran them over Alice’s sides, sliding her hands up to her breasts. Her nipples stiffened under her touch — she hadn’t been sure that kind of biological change was possible. It made her wonder if the rest of her body would be so receptive.

Desire flirted with the warm animal caged in her chest, a languid, hungry thing. How did she want to take her? Against the wall, from behind? Kneeling, like worship at an altar? She hadn’t planned for the shower. Then again, she really hadn’t planned well enough for the bed, so what did it matter?

Her mouth tasted different, now. Not the heady, biting sharpness of before, but the flatness of water. Under her hands, her skin felt warm, alive. The water washed away the hints of otherworldliness about her. Possibility from impossibility. 

She wanted to make her arch like before, wanted to see how many ways she could sing for her. Their heights were too different — Bella bowed her head low, Alice stood up on her tip-toes — but they managed, Bella mouthing at her nipple. Daringly, she grazed her teeth over, biting lightly. Alice whined, and bit her bottom lip in response. She repeated the same on the other side, not wanting to leave her uneven. More and more, Alice rewarded her with sound, little hitches in her chest, cut off intakes of breath. 

There were few things she wanted more, in that moment, than to memorize the sound of her. Still, she dragged her mouth down, kneeling — it would be worship, that was for certain. Her lips mouthed at the flat muscles of her abdomen, kissing her belly button, then an inch below. She lingered at the junction of her hips and thighs.

Alice's hand came to rest on her cheek. “Bella?”

“Is this okay?” Bella asked, kissing her at the crease of her legs.

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“Tell me if I’m doing it right,” she said, already leaning in.

Alice unfurled beneath the first pass of her tongue, sighing out a soft _oh._ At her second pass, the sound that left her was so quiet, delicate, that Bella could barely hear it over the hiss of the shower. The third rewarded her with fingers scratching her scalp, gently encouraging her. She passed over the hood of her clit, once, twice, and Alice's grip in her hair tightened. Cool arousal dripped into Bella's mouth.

Bella drank her down, swallowed salt, something heady. That made Alice's head fall back against the tile, and she groaned, bucking her hips. One leg came up to rest on Bella's shoulder. She redoubled her efforts. She wanted to have _more._

The water cascading down Alice's body warmed the soft skin she held between her lips. She licked up, again, again, again. Both of Alice's hands ran through her hair. "Bella," she sighed, shutting her eyes tightly. Below her, Bella looked up, and saw the soft slopes of her small body, her teeth tearing at her bottom lip, her eyes shuttered tight.

Another sigh — sharp, misaligned. She was in love with the noise. Her own pulse pounded. Her body answered Alice in turn, heat pooling and dripping from her, too. She hadn't realized giving could feel as good as receiving.

Remembering earlier, she put her fingers in her mouth, the middle two of her right hand. With the slick on her fingers, she touched her lightly. Alice moaned sharply. She was spilling over at her entrance.

Bella looked up at her. "Is this —”

"Please," Alice groaned through her gritted teeth, falling back, reaching up for the tile indents carved out of the back wall. She hung on them stiffly, forearms shaking with exertion — likely not from holding herself steady, but from trying to prevent damage. Even so, the ceramic under her fingers cracked apart in spiderweb fissures. 

That amused Bella to no end. She wanted to push the edges of her self control, make her turn the flat to ruins. Just to test her, she played at slipping in, to her first knuckles, before withdrawing completely. Alice growled in frustration.

"Bella." She said it flatly. A command.

She stroked the folds of her entrance, licked languidly at her clit. More cracks — the soap basin was collapsing into powder. 

_"Bella."_

Pleading, but only just. She was feeling greedy. It wasn't enough for her. She pulled her clit into her mouth and sucked lightly, still moving her tongue against it.

Then she let go, stopped altogether. Alice stifled a half-roar. 

"Don't make me beg for you."

 _I could say the same._ Still, she surrendered. Achingly slow, she slid into her, reveling in her exhausted sigh.

Even with two fingers buried to the hilt inside of Alice, cold as she was, Bella’s skin felt blisteringly hot, aching for relief. She pulled Alice closer, cupping her from behind, though Alice was already pushing her hips forward. The pace of her fingers and her tongue, sliding in and out again, quickened. Minutes passed, marked by the jolting into her mouth, Alice riding her fingers, and her noises, louder and louder.

Bella was drunk on her, her sounds, her body, her hips rolling against her palm, the taste of her. The flesh around her fingers tightened. 

Alice didn't scream, or moan, or sigh. It was the choked breaths, muffled by the biting of her lip, that told Bella she was going to come. The tiles shattered where she dug her hands into the wall, and her arousal spilled from her parted lips over Bella's fingers, into her mouth. Shards of ceramic rained down over her. 

Alice slumped against the wall, tilting her face up to meet the spray of water. Bella peered up from between her legs — Alice looked exhausted, her chest heaving. Teasing, she kissed her. Alice hissed, tensing, then relaxed again. She coaxed Bella’s face away from her swollen lips by the nape of her neck. Bella put her fingers in her mouth, lapping up the rest of her. When Alice noticed, she moaned, entranced. 

After all this time, the shower had gone lukewarm. Spots of her had wrinkled with water. Bella shut the console off when she stood. Her hair was plastered to her face, except where it had been pulled, or where Alice’s thighs mussed it. Her wrist felt stiff. Her jaw ached fiercely. For some reason, her throat and mouth tingled uncomfortably.

Later, after she woke from a night of long and restful sleep, dawn raked its pale pink fingers over the soft blue of the morning sky. She watched it from bed, Alice nestled into the crook of her arm, her soft hair tickling her nose. Their bare legs were tangled in the grey covers. 

It would be sunny out today. A good day to stay in and do nothing. Or maybe just one thing.

Bella thought of the human girl in her mind, what advice she would give. What to do with her immortal counterpart, who was listening intently to Bella's heartbeat, ear pressed against her chest, with an arm around her waist. It might be something vapid, useless — _Just have fun!_ or _Take her out sometime!_ or _Just tell her!_ This was unfair, though. It just as easily might be that the same advice is, in reality, wise beyond her years. Live in the present, be brave with her, be honest.

Just the first then, to start. She looked down. Alice’s hair lost all of its soft curls, drying into her familiar messy spikes. Without help, they pointed everywhere at once, as if the wind had blown them in all different directions. Her body felt solid and heavy against her chest. She breathed in her scent, pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

Alice looked up too. “Good morning.”

“Hey.”

“You slept in,” she said, and Bella saw that the alarm clock had been snoozed a dozen times.

“You made me sleep in.”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she defended. “You looked so peaceful.”

“I’m gonna go get some coffee —”

Alice reached over her to the nightstand, and then placed a steaming cup of coffee into her hands. “Already done.”

It was beige. Sweet. “I don’t normally take it like this.”

“I thought you could try something new,” she said, studying her face for any reaction. “Black coffee seems so miserly.”

“Don’t hate on my lifestyle choices.” The flavor wasn’t unwelcome. It was good, even. Less of the bitter motor oil aftertaste. It warmed her chest, fighting the cold morning.

“I was wondering… Maybe, you’re not busy the morning after next, I could help you get educated. There’s a cozy little coffee shop downtown. Great lighting. We could go.”

Bella frowned. “Are you asking me out?”

“I’m asking you to get coffee with me, in a not-friends way.”

Stranger by the minute. “Can you even drink coffee?”

“No, I get too jittery, but I can take pictures,” she said. “Anyway, Monday morning, do we have a date?”

It made her feel like sparklers were going off in her chest. She wanted to be seen with her, wanted to go through the motions like they didn’t know each other’s insides already, wanted people to look at her and go green with envy. “Why not now?”

“Two reasons. Firstly, a girl is going to be in the shop on Monday, she’ll say hello and ask to sit with you, and I want you to tell her you’re already there with someone,” Alice said, lips curling wickedly. “Secondly, we can't do today. Your present just got here.”

Bella blinked, and a moment later, Alice was slipping on a shiny satin robe that barely covered her. Floral lace bounded the neckline, wreathing her pale skin in roses. Then she disappeared. Before the bedroom door could even slide closed on its rails, she reappeared holding a forearm-sized package in her hands.

Bella swallowed. “I like the robe.”

“Thank you! I knew you would,” she said, ripping the outer cardboard open one handed to reveal a matte black, expensive looking box inside. It fell into Bella’s lap. She had a lupine grin on her face, one that made her a little afraid. “Open it.”

The lid of the box popped off smoothly with the decadent feel of coated plastic over coated plastic. When Bella saw what was inside, she immediately shut the box, horrified. Her cheeks burned. She felt redder than a sunburn.

“It’s not gonna bite,” Alice said, sitting down next to her. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s… blue,” she croaked.

Alice’s face twisted in confusion. “Would you have preferred skin-tone?”

Somehow, that made it worse. “No, nope. No.”

Tentatively, she pulled the box open again. It was situated in a bed of black foam, sloping from bulb to tip in one sleek line, thicker in some places, like the part that was supposed to — no, no, no. It was too much.

“Alice,” she said, trying not to make eye contact with it. “What is this.” She was already perfectly aware of what it was, even if she had never seen one in person.

“It’s a strap on, what else could it be?” Alice fearlessly lifted it out, foam and all, and revealed a second compartment — the strap part, she supposed, and an innocent looking bottle of clear fluid. “Oh, good. I was worried that the spare harness wouldn’t get here in time.” She pulled the dildo from its casing. “This part goes inside you, and this part goes inside me. And then we switch places.”

Bella tried not to choke on her own spit. “Isn’t this… a little too much?”

“See, I thought so too, but then I had to get one just in case,” Alice mused, toying with the head of it. “Now I think it might be nice to try after what happened. Only if you're comfortable.”

It was hard to imagine, having had no prior experience with anything of the sort. It was an intimidating, complicated looking thing, especially the harness. At least it wasn’t realistic. She saw the subtle approximation of veins trailing on its sides, like the slope of a long tongue, and wished she hadn’t. 

Instead of picturing it in its expensive, luxurious box, she imagined it on Alice, thought about her thrusting in, bucking, eyes rolled back in her head. Or Alice riding _her_ — that one got her attention. The thought sent a thunderbolt spasm between her legs. 

“We could… try, sure," she said, apprehensively. “I’ll admit, I’m a little intrigued.”

Alice smirked. “Just a little?”

Bella squirmed. She hated how easily flustered she was. “Alright, fine. Maybe more than that.” There was the possibility of a few pleasant scenarios — the bed, for now, while she was still learning, then the armchair, so she could see all of her. Maybe they’d finish over a table. Maybe Alice would like being bent over the side of the bed. Maybe _she_ would like being bent over the side of the bed.

“Seems like that’s an understatement,” Alice said, sly. “Your heartbeat changed.”

“No fair. How am I supposed to tell with you?”

Languidly, Alice swung a leg over her hips. It felt like a routine now, to have to lean back on her arms, raise her thighs a little, so Alice could straddle her usual spot. Coyly — pretending as if it wasn’t entirely on purpose — she shifted her weight, and the shoulder of the robe fell to her elbow, showing the ivory skin of her arm, collarbone, the top of her breast. 

“I don’t know how much more obvious I can be,” she said, pulling the sash on her waist apart, the robe coming undone.

“You could try,” Bella said. She liked the way the words came out of her. “I did all the hard work yesterday. I think I earned it.” She felt the even planes of her stomach, ran a thumb over the underside of her breast.

That made Alice smile crookedly. She let the robe flutter down behind her. “Okay. It’s my turn, then.”

Bella swallowed, hard. It was proof — they affected each other, equals here, in the space of her bed. She couldn’t help but feel cocky, playful. She reached for her — Alice caught her wrist halfway, held it in a vice grip.

“Lay back. Watch,” Alice commanded.

Bella found that she enjoyed that. So, she did as ordered — she inched backwards, coming to rest on the mountain of pillows around the headboard. Alice joined her, settling herself back into her spot, naked. 

Slowly, she reached under herself, and parted her lips with two fingers. The dawn light caught against the gleaming wetness gathering on her. Her other hand came up, squeezed her own breast. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Hot desire pooled in Bella at the sight.

Then — surely, just for show — Alice slid a finger in, then a second, rolling into her palm. Her thumb played with her clit as she rode out the change, quietly exhaling. Her third finger sank in as easily as the last. She relaxed, stretching herself to take the bulb end of the toy, but, more practically, winding Bella up like a top.

It was working. Bella gripped her hip with one hand, and with the other, moved to her own entrance to prepare herself to take the longer end of the toy. She had done this plenty of times before — of course she had, she had been a hormonal teenager without an outlet for years — but it was different now, with Alice watching her through half-lidded eyes, listening to the change in her breathing, her heartbeat. There was no manual for how to masturbate with the intent of turning _someone else_ on. It didn’t matter either way. She couldn’t draw it out like Alice had, lacking both the patience and the self-discipline. She was ready. Two of her own fingers slid home effortlessly, into cloying heat. Alice rewarded her with a short, cut off gasp. The coldness of her leaked out onto Bella’s burning skin. 

Growing impatient, Alice withdrew from herself, and left the bed, walking to where they had discarded the toy. Bella almost wished she hadn’t — she was having more than enough fun. But then, Alice picked it up off the ground, and she decided that maybe she would have more fun _with_ Alice instead of just in front of her. It was an obvious way to work around the limitations of their bodies, at least, while she herself was human.

She wondered if the toy would be as much fun after the change. Maybe it would be even better — an opportunity to ruin her, actually _fuck_ her, not the delicate, careful touches they had been sharing so far. Just thinking about it made it easy to sneak a third finger into herself. In and back out, slick, easy.

At the edge of the bed, Alice sat facing away from her, taking time to work the toy into herself. With a soft, wet noise, it entered her fully. 

“How is it?” Bella asked, curiously.

Alice laughed, sultry, low. “Hm, good. This’ll do,” she said, like it was a private joke only she understood.

Normally, that would be cause for alarm. Right now, it made Bella throb over her own fingers. She couldn’t see from where she lay, but she pictured it against Alice’s gleaming skin. She prepared herself for the worst. It was nothing like she had assumed. It seemed to press against her flawlessly, a perfect fit, though half was hidden inside of her. She realized the ridged pad that marked the beginning of the shaft sat against Alice’s body, right over her clit. It was good knowing she would be getting something out of it, too, though unsurprising that she had thought of everything.

Alice crawled over to her on her knees. The shaft curved up gently against her body. There was a bottle in her hand. When she squirted it over her fingers, a clear, viscous fluid coated the shaft, and she stroked it, the tendons of her fingers visible as she moved.

Despite her readiness, Bella felt nervous. “So…”

“We’ll go as slow as you want, Bella.” She settled herself between Bella’s knees. The blue shaft pressed up against her thigh, more rigid than she had anticipated, but still soft on the surface.

“I want to try it,” Bella said. With her hand, she lined it up against her, dragged up and down. The fluid was cold, but not as cold as Alice had been before. The head teasing at her entrance felt blissfully good _._ “Okay, I’m okay, just —”

The first inch pushed inside slowly. Bella bit back the cry in her throat.

It was different this time — less a painful shard of ice, more of an uncomfortable tightness, turning into a pleasant stretch as it bottomed out inside of her, thickest at the place where their bare skin touched. 

Alice brushed the hair from her face, gazing at her with half-concern, half-hunger. “Are you okay?”

“Just a second,” she answered, a heavy sigh, ragged. She breathed, feeling the red tint of her blood stain every part of her skin again. A short, tense pause as she got used to it, relaxing. “Okay, okay — keep going.”

Alice experimented with a single thrust at first. The slow drag and pull of the soft ridge inside her made her see stars. Her eyes rolled shut. She clamped her hand down on Alice’s stone arm.

“It’s good, you can go faster,” she breathed.

“What makes you think I’m going slow for your sake?” Alice rasped out. 

The sounds she made were hungry, starved things, pleading. “Alice, please.”

“Please what,” she growled.

Despite herself, Bella smiled, head thudding back onto the pillows. “Don’t make me beg.”

"That's cute. Do you remember what you did to me last night?" Alice rolled her hips agonizingly slow and then stopped halfway.

“C’mon, Alice.”

She budged an inch.

“Alice.”

Then another.

“Fuck.”

Nothing — a huff of laughter.

“Alice — just fuck me, please.”

“Do better.”

“Oh, fuck, please — just — please, okay? Alice —”

A sharp, sudden thrust of her hips — the air left Bella’s lungs in a loud moan.

Alice started in earnest then, rhythmic, steady. Bella wrapped her legs around her. Even when Bella tried pulling her in, and when that failed, pushing her own hips up, Alice kept her pace.

Alice steadied herself on Bella's hips, rolling, again, again, again, again. Her sighs were quiet, breathy, keening. Bella tried to listen, as closely as she could, but couldn't focus over the shaft dragging world-endingly perfect inside her. Sometimes, it would graze something inside, make her hips buck involuntarily, and her eyes would roll back into her head until she could think again. Beads of sweat collected on her chest and brow.

They tried kissing, drinking each other's sighs from their mouths, but Alice's jaw hung open after a rounded, long thrust that made them both groan. They tried holding onto something, a mooring — but only Bella could find purchase on Alice's body, raking her nails over her back. Alice settled for the sheets, the muscles of her forearms rippling beneath her skin as she clung to them.

Their lips still touched, as close as they could get to a kiss again, breathing heavily, tasting each other's air. Bella clung to Alice's neck, pressing their foreheads together.

"Bella, _Bella,"_ Alice sobbed against her mouth.

Composing herself, pulling back from an edge she was going to tumble over, Bella looked at her — Alice had her eyes screwed shut, her brow furrowed, concentrating, failing miserably. Her hair swayed back and forth in time with Bella’s own. 

Inside, something was building, making her legs tremble.

"Fuck, pl — " She cut herself off with a groan when the first wave hit her. Her hips jolted up, grinding hard against her. The full blow followed after. She fell against the bed, rolled her whole body up to her, barely able to register that Alice, too, was breaking apart, moaning, thrusts staggering, off-beat. Her panting came loud as Alice finished, a growl rumbling in her chest as she tore the bedspread with the force of her grip.

Little sparks of lightning still danced in her. It wasn't all over, despite the orgasm having passed. She throbbed around the shaft of the toy, leaking over the sheets. Just as well — they were ruined, now, with the hole Alice ripped through them. The toy pulled out of her with a slick sound. 

Above her, Alice was panting, rebuilding her composure breath by breath. When she recovered, she dropped herself down onto Bella's chest, curling in like a cat. She reached back and tugged the bulb end out of herself, tossing it to the side. Their breaths mingled — hot, heavy, with a piercing cold swirling in. The toy left a damp stain on the sheets. Bella tried her best to ignore that she was sitting in a cooling pool of their arousal. If Alice were human, she would have thought she was sound asleep. Maybe she would even snore. 

For a few minutes, they were motionless, exhausted. Then, as if on cue, Bella's stomach rumbled. She scowled. Alice was still draped lifelessly over her.

Bella shook her a little. “Stop pretending to be asleep.”

No response. Alice kept up the ruse, like it was the middle of a long night and she was out cold.

Another shake. “Hey.” Bella tried to sit up, failing from the weight of her on her chest. Then she tried to lift Alice by the arms. She hung from her grasp like a ragdoll. Her lip twitched. 

“I’m going to go eat something,” she said, tossing her arms to the side. 

Alice ‘woke’ up, pouting. She collapsed limply across the bed. “You’re no fun."

"I know, I’m the big bad guy, skipping breakfast for this.” 

“Come back. Stay in bed with me.”

“I’ll be back in a few.”

 _I want to be with you,_ something whispered inside her. _I want to keep being with you. I want to have been with you. I want you to do whatever you want to me._

Still, Bella, like Charlie before her, walked the tightrope halfway between pragmatism and melodrama. She said nothing, making her way to the kitchen, to start what she didn’t know would be the last week of her life.

**Author's Note:**

> Title and chapter card credit goes to @victormancini on tumblr.
> 
> Sorry in advance for formatting issues! 
> 
> For updates or to chat, follow @odiously-yours on tumblr.


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